


i've got all this ringing in my ears and none on my fingers

by crossroadswrite



Series: Victor Nikiforov's Extremely Good Gay Moms [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Youtubers, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Clothes Sharing, Different First Meetings, Domesticity, Drunken Shenanigans, Established Relationship, Kid Fic, Librarian Otabek Altin, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Social Media, Summer of mutual pining, Tumblr Prompts, detroit squad, post-Season 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2019-07-25 04:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 26,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16189826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/pseuds/crossroadswrite
Summary: A collection of tumblr prompts. Check chapter titles for info on each prompt!Latest Prompt:victuuri's baby daughter chooses her starter for the first time, what happens next will warm your heart





	1. teeny yuuri and his puppy vicchan

**Author's Note:**

> Hey-a, the app is a flaming dumpster fire, so I'm cross-posting all my drabbles here for the people who can't read them on there. This doesn't include not!fic and headcanons because thatd be a bit Too Much!! 
> 
> If you're interested in going through all the not!fic and headcanons they should be under [writing tag](http://crossroadswrite.tumblr.com/tagged/i%20wrote%20a%20thing) or under my [yoi hcs tag](http://crossroadswrite.tumblr.com/tagged/yoi%20hcs)
> 
> Since these are just lil prompts, none of them are betaed!! Also title is the title to a FOB song bc thats just how we do for prompts collections here i guess,,,,,,,

When Yuuri begs his parents to get him a dog, he doesn’t actually ask for dog. He asks for the concept of a dog. He asks for the image of Victor Nikiforov, beautiful and ethereal and smiling, clutching his poodle. He asks for something to bring him a step closer to his idol.

Children never really quite understand what they’re asking for when they ask for pets, neither do they grasp the full concept of the words “Yes, but you’re the one who’ll train it.”

So here he is, staring down at a ball of fluff who’s presently biting his ankles and making soft growling noises. Yuuri’s not quite sure what to do.

He settles for picking up the dog and looking him in the eye. “Bad dog, Vicchan. Bad.”

Vicchan wriggles himself out of Yuuri’s grip and falls on the floor, making a little hurt noise before skittering off.

Yuuri’s heart crumples a little.

He crouches down. “I’m sorry Vicchan, I’m sorry,” he coos. “You’re not a bad dog, but you can’t bite, okay?”

Vicchan barrels towards him, jumping to get at his face with his tongue and nip at his chin with sharp teeth.

Yuuri rubs his hands over his soft fur and sighs. Maybe a dog was a bad idea.

«»

“I’ll take Vicchan away,” Mari says, firmly. “If you don’t start properly training him, I’ll take him away.”

Yuuri’s response is immediate. He starts sobbing. It’s never pretty when he cries. It always sounds like something is being forcefully pulled from the pits of his stomach through his throat, wracking his whole body with tremors.

Vicchan starts whining pitifully at his feet.

Mari pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Yuuri, you know I love Vicchan too, but you promised Mom and Dad that you’d look after him, and you’re making everyone else do it for you. You’re being a bad owner to Vicchan.”

Yuuri starts sobbing harder, falling to the floor and reaching for his dog, clutching it to him as Vicchan wriggles and licks at his face.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to.”

Mari crouches in front of him. “I know you didn’t. You’re a good boy, so you need to be good to Vicchan too, okay?”

Yuuri nods fervently, clutches Vicchan harder until he complains.

Mari puts a hand on his head and ruffles his hair gently.

“Come on, Yuuri. Don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, bringing his hands up to scrub at his cheeks.

“It’s okay. Stop crying now, that’s enough.”

Yuuri sniffles a couple of times, blinks away the tears as best as he can and gives his big sister a watery smile.

“I’m sorry for not being good to Vicchan. I’ll try my best from now on.”

Mari smiles and Yuuri feels marginally better.

Mari doesn’t really smile a lot. Yuuri thinks it’s his fault, since he’s the youngest and was born a little bit early his parents always favored him and babied him like they never did Mari. And because his parents are always too easy on him, Mari ends up having to do the hard work like now.

His parents won’t say anything if they know it’ll make Yuuri cry. Mari never let that stop her, and sometimes Yuuri hates her for it, and if his heart weren’t so soft he’d always hate her for it.

But Yuuri is soft hearted, and he’s smart. He knows Mari means well.

“Please teach me how to be good, Mari-nee.”

Mari nods. “Of course.”

Vicchan stops gnawing on Yuuri’s fingers to yip at them.

«»

Yuuri runs with Vicchan every morning, and then again when he gets home just before skating practice. He takes him for a walk after dinner, and Mari normally goes with him, because they’re still uneasy about letting Yuuri alone outside after dark, even if Hasetsu is the very definition of a sleepy town.

Nothing bad ever really happens.

He teaches Vicchan how not to bite and buys him a bunch of toys, plays tug-rope with him, and feeds him every day at dinner.

“Mari-nee look!” Yuuri calls out, and when his sister’s eyes are on him, he looks down at Vicchan with a grin. “And now!” he intones, making his voice rumble like a commentator. “We have Victor Nikiforov and his signature move!” He jumps, spinning around four times, landing on wobbly feet. Vicchan spins with him, standing on his hind legs. “It’s a quadruple flip!” he cheers, sinking to his knees and rubbing Vicchan behind the ears. “We’ve never seen someone so young land one of those in competition!”

Vicchan jumps at him, bowling him over and licking at his face. Yuuri squirms and giggles, trying to push his dog off so he can sit up again.

“Did you see?! Did you see, Mari-nee?! Vicchan can do it too!”

Mari claps. “Wow, impressive.” She’s smiling, so Yuuri beams back.

“I’m gonna show Mom and Dad and Minako-sensei and Yuuchan!” Yuuri says, jumping to his feet and running past her.

“Don’t run in the public rooms!”

«»

Vicchan licks Yuuri’s cheek, making a rumbling noise next to his ear.

Yuuri shushes him, throwing an arm around his dog and petting his flank. “Shhh Vicchan. They’ll hear us.”

Vicchan grumbles again and flops until Yuuri’s hand is on his belly. Yuuri dutifully rubs it for a couple of minutes.

He’s supposed to be asleep right now. It’s a school night, but it’s also one of the Grand Prix qualifiers, and Minako-sensei has monopolized the television in the lounge room to watch it.

Yuuri had sneaked in earlier, crawling under one of the tables that had tablecloths long enough to fall on the floor. It’s the perfect place to hide while still having a great view of the TV. He brought everything he needed to last him a night: snacks and Vicchan and a pillow.

Waiting for it to start is the worst, but Yuuri needs to see Victor compete. It’s the new season and he’s excited to see what new programs Victor has, he’s excited to commit them to memory and try them with Yuuko at Ice Castle.

Vicchan rumbles again, wiggling closer to Yuuri.

Yuuri puts his hand over his paw like he’s holding his hand. Vicchan pulls his paw away and puts it over Yuuri’s hand, so Yuuri grabs it again and makes it a game until he can hear the TV shout Victor’s name.

He rolls on his stomach and crawls forward a little bit, peeking under the tablecloth at the TV.

It’s late enough that the only people left around are Minako-sensei and one or two regulars who always end up passed out in one of the rooms.

Something nudges and pulls and the tablecloth next to him and Yuuri gently lifts it up, allowing Vicchan to poke his head underneath and watch too.

Victor is beautiful and amazing like he always is, and Yuuri has his mouth dropped into a perfect ‘o’ during his performance.

“A quad flip! Right off a sequence! Victor Nikiforov continues to surprise the crowd!” the commentator gushes.

Yuuri audibly gasps and immediately slaps his hand over his mouth.

Too late.

“Katsuki Yuuri, you better not be hiding under this table,” Minako-sensei’s voice threatens.

Yuuri crawls from under the table and gives her a guilty expression, eyes straying to the screen.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He’s not. Not at all.

Victor’s routine is coming to a close, every single movement art.

Minako doesn’t scold him. She’s watching the screen intently too.

Victor ends his routine poised like a greek statue at center ice to the deafening cheers of the crowd.

He does a loop around the ice with a beaming smile, heads to the kiss and cry to get his scores, and only when he has them, and the camera pans to someone else, does Yuuri look away.

“You should be asleep,” Minako tells him with a disapproving twist of her mouth.

“I am very sorry,” he says again.

“You don’t sound like you mean it.”

Yuuri bites his lip, looking away and down.

Minako sighs and reaches to ruffle his hair.

“You’ve watched Victor. Go to bed, kid, before your mom finds out.”

Yuuri smiles, gives Minako a quick hug before scrambling up and running towards his room, Vicchan quick on his heels.

«»

“I’m going to throw up,” Yuuri says, clutching at his stomach.

It’s his first away competition and the nerves are getting to Yuuri more than he ever knew they could. They twist in his stomach and blur his vision, make his feet feel like lead.

“Yuuri,” Minako says, rubbing a hand over his back. “You’re gonna be okay. You trained for this.”

“I-“

“Here,” she says, getting her phone out and showing him a text message. Yuuri peers at the screen to see Vicchan sitting in front of the TV, head on his paws, looking sad. “Vicchan is waiting for you to go out there. Do your best for Vicchan.”

Yuuri blinks up at Minako sensei.

This is stupid. It’s stupid but he can breathe a little better.

“Okay.”

He goes on the ice to win his first gold.

«»

When he gets home he puts the medal around Vicchan’s neck and hugs him until his dog grumbles in discomfort.

“You’re my lucky charm, Vicchan!”

Yuuri kisses his snout, and Vicchan licks at his face, covers his glasses in spit, keeps licking until Yuuri falls backwards and has to push at his dog’s head in between giggles.

Getting a dog was the best idea.


	2. college au - librarian!beka&bad boy!yura

To everyone around campus, Yuri Plisetsky is the genius boy who enrolled at the tender age of sixteen and has spent his last four years setting new records for the school and avoiding arrest. Everyone has a different version of Yuri, ranging from the boy who climbed to the roof to get a cat that had gotten stuck, to the douchebag who made some girl cry in the middle of the cafeteria.

There are urban myths around him. There’s a guy that swears up and down that Yuri is some sort of fae who’s trying to lure people into the faewild to use as sex slaves. And then there’s a girl who says he’s banging all the teachers and that’s how he consistently places at the top of all his classes and excels in his area.

Rumors of him getting into fights and beating guys twice his size circle around campus every two months or so, as do the rumors about him being engaged in an epic prank war with an exchange student that had resulted in both of them being kicked out of their dorms (which might or might not be related with how JJ ended up crashing on Otabek’s couch for a full week).

Phichit Chulanont – with whom Otabek has Contemporary Dance class with - even considered conducting interviews around campus about Yuri so he could do a montage and gift it to him on his birthday because _Mean Girls is a classic Otabek, and Yuri is Regina George, his hair is full of secrets!_

It wouldn’t be a bad project. Everyone on campus has something to say about Yuri Plisetsky.

Otabek, though? Otabek knows him as the guy who doesn’t understand what the words _quiet in the library_ mean.

Yuri has been terrorizing the campus library for almost three months now.

Otabek likes to think that they’ve developed a sort of friendship by now, in which Yuri is _extremely loud_ and Otabek stares him down until he either quiets down or asks him if he wants to fight.

“My name is Yuri Plisetsky,” Yuri Plisetsky says, stepping up to the front desk where Otabek is currently working. “And I’m here to physically fight you.”

Or maybe not.

The truth is that Otabek _might’ve_ come to admire Yuri in the past few months, maybe even developed what some would call a crush, because even if the library is absolutely not the place to challenge people for a dance battle, Otabek can’t help but be very impressed by Yuri’s skills. And Yuri's general fight me attitude towards life and everyone who tries to diminish his accomplishments.

His older sister says he likes human messes and assholes. His mother says he just likes people with a strong personality. Otabek tends to agree with the latter.

“Also I want my Nerf back, that was, like, 4,000 rubles.”

Yuri’s “reign of terror” - as Seung-Gil, who mostly manages the archives, likes to call it – on the library had started with him shouting _penis_ at the top of his lungs to win some sort of game and get a free pizza and had escalated into yesterday’s events.

Yesterday Yuri had kicked the library door open, wearing Dior sunglasses and a shirt that read THOT PATROL and proceeded to hunt down that TA guy who had turned into a model after some student took a picture of him during class, and then chased him around the library calling him a “goddamned tutor stealing harlot, go choke on a dick, you thirsty thot”.

It had gotten to the point where Otabek had to physically throw him over a shoulder and carry him out of the library.

Yuri had been fairly reasonable about leaving all the other times he had caused trouble, unfortunately as soon as Otabek took the Nerf away from him and managed to somewhat get a handle on the situation, the TA man with the improbable hair color had held up one finger and called someone.

Otabek had thought he was calling someone to pick him up, but God isn’t so kind to him because the next words out of the TA’s mouth had been “Hold on a minute, Yura, I’m calling Yuuri, choking on a dick sounds lovely at this time of day.”

Otabek had barely managed to keep Yuri from launching himself at the TA.

Which is why he’s in this current situation. Yuri  was more than a little pissed when Otabek set him down as far from the library entrance as he was willing to go and told him to take a walk.

“I get out at eight,” Otabek tells him.

“What,” Yuri says, frowning at him.

“If you want to fight. I get out at eight, we can fight then.”

Otabek will not fight him then.

Yuri just looks at him. “What the fuck am I supposed to do until then? Read a book?”

“You could go home,” Otabek suggests. “But if you want to stay I have a good book I just finished, you might like it.”

“You carried me over your shoulder like a helpless princess, I need to physically fight you now. Gimme a stupid book, I’ll wait. Then you better square up ‘cause I’m dragging your fine ass all the way to hell and back.”

Otabek quirks an eyebrow at _fine ass_ , but takes the book he just finished out of his bag, handing it over to Yuri.

“The couches on the third floor should be free at this time.”

“Whatever,” Yuri says, and walks away.

«»

It’s 8:20h when Otabek finally manages to leave. Yuri Plisetsky has not come back to physically fight him, so Otabek goes looking for him. It’s the polite thing to do, to warn the person who wants to punch you (dance battle you? arm wrestle you? Otabek is unsure what he means by physical fight) that you’re leaving and they might miss their chance.

He finds him on the third floor, laying on the ground with his feet thrown over the couch, holding his book above his face with one hand and with the other petting the library cat that has taken residence on his stomach.

_Cute_ , he thinks, smiling a little to himself

“Hey, it’s eight, do you want to fight me or what?”

Yuri looks over at him. “Or what. I’m going to stay here and finish this book, it’s not like I can’t beat your ass another time,” he says dismissively, and just before his stomach growls loudly.

Yuri flushes and looks down at himself, looking betrayed by his own stomach.

Otabek’s lips twitch. “You don’t want to move the cat, do you?”

“What I do with my life is none of your business,” Yuri says. His stomach growls again, louder.

Otabek goes to pick up the cat – she doesn’t really have a name, no one can agree on one – and cradles her in his arms. She headbutts him on the chin softly and continues purring.

A good cat, and one of the reasons why Otabek keeps working at the library.

“Buy me dinner,” Yuri demands, getting to his feet and dusting himself off.

“Okay,” Otabek says easily, because his mother raised him better than to deny food from people who are hungry, and also because a beautiful boy is asking him to dinner and Otabek who might very well have a _crush_ on said beautiful boy isn’t about to say no.

Yuri squints at him suspiciously. “You’re paying,” he says, as if he wants to make sure Otabek understands the conditions of taking him out.

“Yes,” Otabek says and deposits The Cat on someone’s lap on their way to the door.

“Cool,” Yuri says, and shoves his hands in his jean’s pockets. “Are you giving me my Nerf back?”

“Maybe next week.”

«»

Otabek has no idea what he did to be this blessed, but Yuri Plisetsky is currently sitting across from him, getting his hands greasy with pizza and talking excitedly about the finer details of ice skating – a sport that Otabek has never paid too much attention to but that Yuri seems to be really into. His eyes light up, and he keeps leaning forward and gesturing. He talks with his mouth half-full. Otabek is a little charmed.

He has also acquired the knowledge that Yuri Plisetsky is a fucking dork who spent the twenty minutes they had to wait for their pizza showing him pictures of his cat when Otabek mentioned that he liked cats.

He also gets a very detailed and dramatized account of how Yuri’s narcissistic cousin started dating Yuri’s tutor and how Yuri is _very much not happy_ about it, hence Nerfing him in the campus library.

“Do you need me to take you home?” Otabek offers, because it’s almost two am and he’d feel bad leaving Yuri stranded. They’ve been wondering around the deserted campus for a while now, but Otabek couldn’t really bring himself to stop Yuri from talking. He likes hearing him.

But it’s late and he has things to do, so he’s started steering them towards where he parked his bike.

“I don’t need to be esc- _hoooly shit_ is that yours?” he asks, when Otabek takes his motorcycle keys out of his coat pocket and lifts the sit to take out his helmet.

“Yeah. Want a ride or what?”

“Hell yeah!”

Otabek offers him his spare helmet and straddles the bike, waiting for Yuri to get on and hold onto him, before he kicks off the rest pedal and starts driving through the quiet streets.

He has no idea where Yuri lives and Yuri hasn’t volunteered the information, so Otabek drives them around for about half an hour since it’s clear Yuri is enjoying getting to ride a bike, before he asks.

When he finally drops him off, Yuri takes his helmet off and starts fiddling with it a little bit.

“You should buy me dinner another time,” he tells him. “This didn’t suck, so I guess I won’t have to drag your ass to the pit.”

“Our university doesn’t have a pit,” Otabek points out, because he feels like it’s important. And when Yuri glares at him, he lets his lips quirk into a very tiny smile and says, “I can take you out again. It’ll be a date.”

Yuri looks up at him with a smile that could probably win wars. “Cool… or whatever.” He hands the helmet over to Otabek and punches him in the arm, “I don’t kiss on the first date, so I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight when you get off work.”

“Cool,” Otabek says, and then just because he can, adds, “or whatever.”

Yuri punches him in the shoulder again, a little harder. “Don’t be a bitch, and go the fuck to sleep, it’s late as hell I have an eight am class tomorrow.”

Otabek takes a couple of steps back, doesn’t turn yet, because there’s something almost ethereal about Yuri standing in a streetlight at two am.

“Goodnight, Yuri,” he says.

“See you tomorrow, Beka.”


	3. vivi meets yuuri and vicchan on a plane!

Geneviève is thirty minutes into her flight, when one of the flight attendants approaches her and asks, “I’m sorry, would you mind if we moved a passenger in economic to the seat next to you? He has a dog and-“

“Yes!” Geneviève says immediately, and definitely too fast. Sappho is looking over her. She may have to tolerate flying without her wife, but at least she’ll have a dog for company. The universe is kind to her in these small ways and she feels blessed.

“Oh,” the flight attendant says, as if they expected more of a fight. “Thank you. I’ll send them over,” they say with a grateful nod, before the start walking away.

“Wait!” Geneviève calls, and waits for the flight attendant to turn to ask, “What kind of dog is it?”

All dogs are very good dogs, obviously, but like all women are excellent women Geneviève has some preferences and inclinations.

“Um,” the flight attendant frowns, thinking. “A toy poodle, I believe.”

Geneviève very nearly squeals in delight.

«»

The man that sits beside her is wrapped in at least four layers of clothes, has a face mask on and a beanie, and immediately bows to thank Geneviève for letting him sit next to her and apologize for inconveniencing her. He sounds like a cute boy, and Geneviève may not be an expert in cute men like she is in cute women, but she has a good eye for beautiful things, and a single son that could use a boyfriend.

“It’s no bother at all! I do have one condition though,” she says, putting on her most serious voice, because maybe she likes teasing people a little.

The man starts looking nervous.

“Can I pet your dog?” she asks excitedly, trying to peer into the blue doggy carrier.

The man visibly slumps in relief.

“Yes, of course. She’s not working right now, so it’s okay,” he says and turns the door of the carrier towards Geneviève so she can look at the absolutely cutest little toy poodle she has ever seen in her _life_.

Well, every poodle is the cutest poodle she’s ever seen in her life, but those are semantics.

“What a precious girl!” she coos, and the puppy’s little ears perk up, as she lifts her muzzle towards the noise. “Oh, you’re just darling aren’t you! What a wonderful girl! You’re so good!” The poodle’s tail starts thumping against the floor of the carrier, and, with a look at the man to make sure it really is okay, Geneviève puts her fingers through the door’s grate . The poodle immediately shuffles forward and licks her hand.

Truly she is blessed on this day.

“What a good wonderful girl! What’s her name?”

“Ah. Vicchan. I call her Vicchan.”

“Hi, Vicchan, aren’t you such a beautiful girl! Such a happy girl!” she continues cooing. “You said she works?”

“She’s my service dog,” the man says.

“A wonderful, hard-working girl! What a star! I love her,” GeneviÈve says, with as much feeling as she can put into her words.

Vicchan licks her fingers and crawls forward enough that Geneviève can awkwardly pet her.

The man pulls down his mask and takes his beanie off. His hair is sticking up at odd angles, but Geneviève’s intuition was very right. He is indeed very cute. She wonders if he’s into boys.

“Thank you. She really is a good dog. She helps me a lot,” he says earnestly. He has big puppy eyes that kind of remind Geneviève of Makkachin.

The man reaches over to open the door to the carrier and says something in a commanding tone in Japanese, that has the little poodle sitting down obediently. She doesn’t jump out when the door opens, just waggles her tails excitedly and stomps her little front paws restlessly in place. Geneviève immediately decides to find out if he does like boys or not.

She reaches inside the carrier and has her hand attacked with doggy licks, as she tries her best to pet the absolute best girl.

“ _I love her_ ,” she says again, feeling a little like crying because _gods_ what an absolutely precious dog!

When she looks up at the man he has this ridiculously soft smile on his face that makes him look the more handsome.

“I’m Geneviève, by the way,” she introduces herself.

“Yuuri,” he says, and takes her hand when she offers it for him to shake.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Yuuri.”

“You too.”

«»

One hour into the flight and Geneviève somehow has managed to get Yuuri to make small talk with her. He’s a bit awkward when he answers, and it’s almost endearing how shy he is. But he talks with her about small things, and informs her he’s an athlete which is just _perfect_.

“Oh, how exciting! What kind of athlete?” she asks.

“Um, figure skating. I’m going to Sochi for a competition.”

Geneviève can feel her smile grow.

“What a coincidence!” she says happily. “I have a son who’s a figure skater too!”

Yuuri chokes on his water, turning to her, eyes flicking towards Geneviève’s silver hair which sits on top of her hair in a neatly messy bun, and then down at her face, her blue eyes and the way she’s smiling, which she knows is much like Vitya smiles.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” he chokes out.

“I see you know him!” Geneviève says, grinning. It’s impossible to be into figure skating and not know her Vitya which is something that makes her feel incredibly proud of everything that her baby has accomplished, but also something that she knows keeps younger skaters away from Vitya. He’s far too high on the pedestal not to be intimidating, and the pedestal is a lonely, lonely place.

“Not- not personally,” Yuuri chokes out, still looking shell-shocked.

Vicchan whines in her carrier and paws at the grate. Yuuri opens the dorr and puts Vicchan in his lap. He looks kind of panicky. Geneviève doesn’t really understand it, but she might have messed up.

“Do you want to hear the story of how my son managed to steal all the dogs in our building when he was about eight?” she asks, and that seems to shock Yuuri enough to get him to listen and to snap him back out of whatever was happening to him.

“I- he stole all the dogs?”

“He did. It was a very pet friendly building. I came home and there were fifteen dogs in my living room.”

Yuuri breathes in sharply and it stutters a little. “Really?”

Geneviève smiles and tells him the story, feeling very pleased with herself when Yuuri seems to relax.

«»

Geneviève might’ve peered into Yuuri’s phone when he was checking something on it and she might or mght not have seen that his background after he unlocks it is a picture of Vitya beaming with a whole bunch of heart emojis around it. This fact makes her very, very happy.

“I think you and Vitya would get along well,” she tells Yuuri just as the plane is landing.

That startles Yuuri, who snaps his head towards her so fast it looks painful.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Geneviève asks, leaning forward conspiratorially.

Yuuri’s eyes dart around nervously. “Um. Should you?” he asks, and this is why Geneviève likes him. She knows a good boy when she sees one, and Yuuri is a very good boy.

“It’s not a very well-kept secret,” she confides.

“Oh,” Yuuri says, still looking unsure. “Okay?”

Geneviève smiles at him. “Vitya needs more friends,” she says in a hushed tone. “I worry about him.”

She knows this is a little ridiculous. She knows for all intents and purposes Victor is an adult who should make his own decisions and manage his own personal life, but well… well, she worries. She carried him for nine months in her and held him when he was just a fragile, wrinkled little thing who cried and cried. She worries.

Yuuri looks speechless. “I- I wouldn’t have guessed,” he says.

“No one would,” she says, because her Vitya has gotten very good at pretending. She worries about that too. “I know you’re both too old for me to be doing something like this. But if you could, do you think you could be his friend?”

Yuuri looks at her for a solid minute, completely speechless.

“I’m not good enough, yet,” he says. “I’ve been- I’ve been trying… practicing. To be worthy of being on the same ice as him.” He clenches his fists on top of his knees. “But I’m- I’m not there yet.”

“Hm,” Geneviève says. Yuuri seems to have put her son on a pedestal as well. One possibly higher than most people put him on. “That’s great. It’s good to have goals, and Vitya as a skater is a great goal to reach for.” Yuuri breathes out, apparently relieved that she seems to understand. Geneviève does not understand, so she continues. “But what about him as a person? He is not just a skater, he is many other wonderful things, and I am so worried how few people seem to see how many wonderful things he is besides a wonderful skater.”

That seems to stump Yuuri a little bit. He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again and closes it, his teeth clicking faintly together. There’s a little frown creasing the middle of his forehead.

The overheard seatbelt sign turns on, and Geneviève leans back and buckles her seatbelt.

“Like I said, I think you’d get along well.”

«»

They’re going their separate ways at the airport. Geneviève says a warm goodbye to Vicchan and to Yuuri before she goes off to find her wife, and hopes he words did something and that maybe her Vitya will have someone else to talk to when he’s sad that isn’t her.

Her wonderful wife is waiting for her near the baggage claim and Geneviève wastes absolutely no time jumping into her arms and kissing the daylights out of her.

“I missed you so much, I almost died,” she confesses, cradling her beautiful wife’s face between her hands, faces so close their noses almost touch.

Victoria squeezes her against her and lifts a little so only Geneviève’s toes touch the floor. “Not as much as I missed you, dear heart.”

How is it, after so many years married, Geneviève still feels like the luckiest woman alive. The spark in a marriage dying truly is straight propaganda, she has not seen her wife for almost a week and she’s missed her so dearly her heart ached the whole time.

“And I have a surprise for you waiting in the car,” Victoria says.

“You shouldn’t have,” Geneviève says, kissing her wife once more, and feeling her smile stretch impossibly.

Geneviève collects her bags and is about to happily follow her wife out of the airport when her eyes catch on a whole scene developing by one of the security desks.

She recognizes Yuuri’s coat from behind and even from here she can see he’s visibly distressed, clutching the carrier for Vicchan that sits atop the desk as close to him as he can, even as the clerk is making obvious motions to take it from him.

“Wait,” she says, making Victoria stop walking. “Sorry, I just need to-“ she says, pointing at Yuuri.

Victoria looks at him and tilts her head curiously. “Did you make a friend during your flight?”

“He’s a skater like Vitya,” she tells her, pulling her gently towards him. “He has the sweetest service dog, can we just make sure everything is okay?”

“Of course, darling.”

Everything is not okay. They want to quarantine Vicchan, even if Yuuri has all the required paperwork with him and had sent the necessary ones ahead and talked to the airport beforehand. There seems to be some sort of miscommunication happening and Yuuri’s hands are shaking.

Victoria takes a look at the dog, takes a look at Yuuri’s quickly unraveling composure, takes a look at Geneviève, and her face goes from loving wife to CEO of a wildly successful business, all hard edges and steel eyes as she demands to speak to whoever is in charge.

Geneviève loves having a capable wife who can solve situations like this in under twenty minutes, and if it weren’t for the fact that Victoria immediately offered to drive Yuuri to his hotel, Geneviève would drag her wife to her car and show just how much she loves it. As it is, they both escort Yuuri to the car and assure him repeatedly that it really is no trouble at all. Yuuri is still shaking and Geneviève really, really hopes that he’ll be alright.

“He seems really nice,” Victoria says, when Yuuri is putting their luggage in the trunk at his own insistence.

“He is,” Geneviève says. “He has the most darling dog, _and_ he likes Vitya.”

“All great qualities in a person,” Victoria observes, smiling a little.

“Would you like to see your surprise now?”

Geneviève claps her hands, delighted. “Yes, please.”

“Get in the car, it’s in the back.”

Geneviève opens the back door and is faced with the best gift she could ever receive.

“Vitya!” she screeches happily.

“Mama!” Vitya cheers back, beaming, and opens his arms so Geneviève can lean down and hug him tight for just a little too long, but that’s alright because Vitya likes long hugs and he doesn’t pull back until she does.

“I missed you so much, baby,” she says. Truly she is such a blessed woman. She does not know what she ever did in any of her past lives to deserve this, but Shapho is looking after her.

“I missed you too, Mama,” Vitya says, his eyes so soft around the corners that Geneviève has to hug him again. She absolutely has to.

“You look tired, baby. Have you been resting?”

“I’ve been practicing, Mama. It’s the final after all,” he says giving her a smile.

Geneviève is so proud of him. Even as she worries she is so heart-fillingly _proud_.

“You still should rest more.”

“I’ll try,” Vitya says, eyes still soft and just a little sad.

Geneviève pets his hair out of his face. “That’s all I ever ask of you.”

“Vivi, darling, we need to get going,” Victoria calls from the front seat. “Yuuri is waiting to see where he’s going to sit, are you hoping in the back or the front?”

Oh, right.

“Yuuri?” Victor asks, confused.

“I met one of your competitors on the flight! He’s so nice, and we’re all going to the same place so we offered him a ride,” she tells him, giving him a wink.

“ _Mama_ , please, don’t tell me you-“

Geneviève interrupts him by leaning out and getting into the front seat, leaving Victor staring out at Yuuri who is clutching the dog carrier in his arms and looking like he’s three seconds away from passing out.

“Hi!” she hears Victor say in the voice he uses to talk to cute boys.

“Um, hi?” Yuuri says, sounding unsure of himself, voice one or two octaves higher than Geneviève has heard it so far. “S-sorry for imposing.”

Victor scoots to the other side of the car and gesture for Yuuri to sit. “Not at all. It’s not every day I get the chance to talk with Japan’s ace, after all.”

Yuuri doesn’t sit right away. He makes a noise very high in the back of his throat, as if he were internally screaming so loudly it stopped being so internal.

“Oh,” Yuuri says, sounding like he’s choking.

Victor pats the seat next to him. “Come on, then. I have some questions I’d like to make. The most important is: what’s in the carrier?”

Yuuri gets into the car slowly, and closes the door just as slowly. Then he turns the carrier so it faces Victor and Geneviève can pinpoint the exact moment Victor sees the dog by the excited noise he makes. He has been making that exact noise since he was a toddler.

“This is my dog Vicchan. Do you, huh, would you like to pet her?”

Victor gasps. “Can I?” he asks in the same overjoyed little boy voice Geneviève is so weak to.

The rest of the trip is spent with Victor cooing at Yuuri’s dog and talking to Yuuri about their dogs. Geneviève smiles the whole way to the hotel, and smiles so hard she cries, two years later when she watches her son and Yuuri in sharp suits exchanging rings.


	4. podium fam + thunderstorms

Sometimes, Victor wakes up grasping at the cold sheets of his empty bed, with a throat clogging panic snug around his neck. For the couple of seconds it takes for his brain to register the weight of the gold band wrapped around his finger the coldness of the sheets gets to him, shaping Yuuri like the cravings of a love starved man and distancing him from reality.

Victor hates those times. He hates the crawling seconds that scrape his skin raw and leave him vulnerable as he tries to reassure himself that this is real and that Yuuri happened to him.

At times like this, it’s the little traces that Yuuri leaves behind on his nightstand that tether Victor to reality, like the mug with a Japanese cartoon smiling cheerily, the smartphone with its light blue case, the handful of candy, a framed photo of everyone in Hasetsu before Yuri left, a knitted makkachin plushie someone had thrown on the ice after Yuuri’s last performance…

Victor clings to the presence of these objects like a man drowning, letting their existence be a balm to his frazzled nerves.

It’s still not pleasant to wake up alone, but Victor knows he can’t always wake up to Yuuri’s soft sleeping face as he drools on his pillow either. He’s selfish enough to want to always wake up to Yuuri, but he’ll never be selfish to the point of enforcing it.

Victor sighs and turns towards his own bedside table, slapping it a couple of times until he finds his phone to check the time, eyes squinting against the bright 4:37 it displays. He drops his phone back into the nightstand and wonders what woke him up.

It’s warm under the covers, and being as early as it is, he knows that getting up to check on Yuuri would be pointless. He’ll get back in a minute, and then Victor will cling to him all he wants, and bear warming Yuuri’s cold feet between his calves because he’s a good fiancé like that.

There’s very little that could get him out of bed, when he has the promise of a Yuuri in his arms soon, and the soft pitter patter of rain on his window is the perfect ambience music to lull him back to sleep.

Just as his eyelids are dropping again, thunder crashes outside, rattling Victor to the bone and making him reflexively twist his fingers in the bedspread, an old fear echoing along the jarring sound. It takes him barely two seconds to shove his arms through his warm robe and his feet into his house slippers as he goes looking for comfort.

He finds it in his living room, sitting on the couch with a mug of tea and a heavy blanket wrapped around him, facing the double windows and the thunderstorm raging outside head on. His beautiful Yuuri, that always looks like a piece of accidental art.

“You’re up,” Yuuri whispers, turning to look at Victor, a hushed, soft expression framing his features.

“You weren’t in bed.” Victor moves towards him, eager to touch like he always is.

Thunder booms outside once more just as Victor goes around the couch, making him flinch and trip his way to Yuuri’s side.

Yuuri opens one side of the blanket, letting Victor settle close to him, as curled up as his long limbs allow.

Light flashes across the room, thunder following the it almost immediately after.

Victor twists his hand in the bottom of Yuuri’s shirt and draws the blanket tighter around his shoulders, glaring in the general direction of the sky.

“It’s getting closer,” Yuuri hums softly, passing his mug into Victor’s, without needing to be asked.

“Shut up! I don’t wanna hear that!”

Victor almost spits his tea, looking disbelievingly at the lump curled against Yuuri’s other side, wondering how he hadn’t noticed how it looks distinctly Yuri shaped.

“I thought you were listening to music,” Yuuri says calmly.

Yuri peeks from under his fortress of expensive wool and glares at him, earbuds pressed against his ears, and his thin, shaking frame, plastered to Yuuri’s side.

“The song was changing!”

“Sorry, my bad,” Yuuri says easily enough, tugging the blanket back over Yuri’s head just before thunder crashes again.

“Shit!” Yuri shouts, and Victor feels Yuuri adjust his arm around him, pulling Yuri that bit closer.

Yuuri’s hand finds his, and their fingers intertwine. Victor sighs and gives Yuuri’s hand a gentle squeeze laying his head on his shoulder and silently counting the seconds until the next lightning strike and crashing thunder.

“You like thunderstorms?” Victor asks quietly, trying not to disrupt the tentative warmth and softness Yuuri has created under the cover of his blanket.

“Yeah. They’re pretty.”

Victor looks at Yuuri’s profile, considering this. He’s never thought that thunderstorms were pretty. Mostly, he thought they were violent, scary, _unnecessary_. He remembers being tiny and shaking to the core with the intensity of thunderstorms, hands clasped around his ears as tightly as he could to keep the noise out and head buried in his knees, feeling small and insignificant and like he couldn’t reach out to anyone. He remembers feeling like he was a stupid, useless cry baby who just needed to _get over it_.

And he had, for the most part. He had grown out of fearing thunderstorms, but he still hated them, and he still finds ways to block them out and distract himself from them.

Lightning paints harsh shadows across the room for a split second, and Victor’s breath stutters in his chest, his eyelashes fanning his cheekbones in a series of blinks, as he tries to recover from the sight of Yuuri with lightning smudged on his features, and how, for just a split second, he went from looking beautiful to looking otherworldly, like a deity that Victor wouldn’t be allowed to touch.

He squeezes Yuuri’s hand again, holds his comfort between the creases of his fingers.

“Yeah, I suppose they are.”


	5. yuuchit brotp: college years take 1

If there’s something Phichit Chulanont has learned about Yuuri Katsuki in the few months they roomed together is that he is a responsible cupcake muffin of a boy who won’t let Phichit touch anything alcoholic until he hits eighteen.

If there’s another thing he learned, is that once Yuuri is a handful drinks in, he will happily hand beer over into Phichit’s waiting hands, no questions asked.

But the most important thing he learns is that getting Yuuri drunk enough to get  _himself_  drunk is not worth it most of the time.

Of the five times Phichit witnessed Yuuri getting drunk, two of them Yuuri sweet talked asomeone into not reporting him for public indecency, and three other times Yuuri has ended up somewhere lightly dangerous (e.g.: on the roof of one of their college buildings, cuddling a stuffed elephant; on top of a bar in a strip club; inside the ball pit at chuck e cheese’s), or in another country (e.g.:that one time he somehow woke up in an airplane to russia with a man who was ready to be his sugar daddy).

So, being the good friend that he is, Phichit tries to prevent Yuuri from getting outrageously  drunk. Up until the one spring break when they go to some parties and he notices that every time there’s food around, Yuuri can be contained to one area.

He only really connects food = Yuuri being contained, when he loses Yuuri at a party in the last day of spring break, and finds him sitting in a drive through window at the local Mcdonalds.

“This is Sarah,” Yuuri tells him, happily, pointing at the girl tending the window. “She gave me chicken nuggets. Thank you Sarah, you’re beautiful,” he says, looking soulfully into poor Sarah’s eyes.

Poor Sarah sighs dreamily and holds up a special mcsauce box up to Yuuri so he can dip his chicken nuggets in it. Which sounds vaguely dirty in Phichit’s head, but is greatly overshadowed by his Eureka moment.

As a Good Friend™ he needs to test this as soon as possible. Next time he brings Yuuri out he passes by Mcdonalds and orders five boxes of chicken nuggets and hides them in his bag.

“It’s not that high,” Yuuri is drunkenly trying to reason, gesturing vaguely towards the fence around the local zoo which Phichit is actively trying to prevent him from climbing. “I wanna pet a turtle.”

“Okay, you could do that, but I have chicken nuggets here and I will give them to you if you don’t,” Phichit tries.

Yuuri lights up and gasps when Phichit pulls the boxes out of his bag.

“Are you my fairy godparent?” Yuuri says, in awe, and shoves three McChicken McNuggets in his mouth at once.

Phichit declares it a success and starts being the kind of guy who carries a bag full of food around,  _just in case_ , because apparently food doesn’t only work to convince Yuuri out of doing things like trying to climb on the 20 meter tall art deco sculpture in the middle of campus to stargaze better, but it also works for cheering him when he’s sad, stressed, annoyed, dejected, frustrated, or any other negative emotion you can think of.

Years later, Phichit finds himself not only winning gold at the Cup of China in the Grand Prix series, competing against Yuuri like he’s always wanted to, but also being looked at with reverance and respect by Victor Nikiforov when he pulls a full pizza out of his bag and stop Yuuri from trying to  _literally swing from the chandelier,_ and just sits tells Phichit he loves him while Phichit handfeeds him pizza, not to ruin his nice Armani suit.

That’s when he knows he’s made it.


	6. yuuchit brotp: college years take 2 part 1

In the college campus Phichit attends, the artsy people tend to keep to themselves, since it’s not a primarily artsy college. You can go almost a full semester without spotting anyone who is dedicating their youth to learning stuff that will be completely useless in the collapsing employment market.

Phichit says almost because at the end of every semester, the artsy people wake up from their long slumber and litter the entire campus, bringing with them beautiful artworks, interpretative dance, and an all out party.

They set up a stage. There’s music and local bands, and most importantly nasty dirt-cheap alcohol.

Phichit absolutely loves this time of year, not only for the uplifting environment but also because it’s around the time Yuuri has run out of fucks to give, and drinks himself into shamelessness. Phichit lives for it. Something magical always happens.

This year he’s the most ready he’s ever been. He has two separate phones at full charge and he bought a portable battery if one of his phones fails on him.

This year there are optimal conditions for something magical to happen, because Yuuri has gone way past tipsy three beers and two body shots ago, and he’s been chatting up with the two people who are in charge of security, and by the looks on their faces they would rob a bank for Yuuri and possibly protect him through a zombie apocalypse, no questions asked.

The cherry on top of all of this, though, is that Brad™ is MC-ing this event while this band or another gets lost on their way to campus.

Brad™ is a hockey player who always lags behind on the ice when it’s the skaters’ time to practice because he thinks pulling pigtails is a valid way of flirting. Brad™ is the kind of guy who carries around a ruler to prove that his dick is as big as he says it is. Brad™ point blank asked Yuuri to suck his dick when he was hammered, and when Yuuri  (who was also hammered) said “not even if it was covered in honey” Brad™ dragged them to Whole Foods and stuck his dick in a jar of honey.

Yuuri is not a fan of Brad™, though he’s too nice to say it, and Brad™ is doing a horrible job of MC-ing.

So when Brad™ tells another lame joke about how big his dick is and Yuuri starts climbing over the fence, Phichit is ready. He has both phones out and recording at the same time. He has spent the whole semester learning how to doubly-wield two phones. He’s got this.

There’s a moment when he thinks security is going to try to pull Yuuri back, but instead they help Yuuri climb onto the stage by boosting him up.

“Brad, you uncultured bisexual!” Yuuri yells, grabbing the mic from his hand. “No one cares about your dick, this is about music. It’s supposed to cheer people up, not send them to therapy.”

Phichit chokes.  Brad™ stands there and watches this happen with the same face he made when Yuuri told him yeah Brad wanting to suck dick is kinda homo, there’s no ‘no’ about it.

“Please let me go up there,” Phichit begs. “Think of the people. Think of the Instagram posts.”

The security guards look at each other, and then shrug. They’re doing a terrible job of securing and Phichit loves them both.

“Hey, you can’t-” Brad™ starts.

Yuuri whirls and points a finger to his face, taps his nose. “Dance battle, messy boy! Square up!”

Phichit climbs on the stage and points at the one guy with the camera that is transmitting all this to the plasma TV on one side of the stage. “Can I borrow that?”

“Do you know how to use it?”

“Psshht, don’t insult me.” Phichit has no idea how to use it, but he figures it out in 0.7 seconds flat. He ain’t out here keeping a 4.0 GPA , and watching people make reviews of cameras until five am for nothing.

He gives his phones with very specific instructions on how to use them.

“Phichit hold my glasses,” Yuuri says, thrusting them in Phichit’s vague direction. Phichit takes them and tucks them safely in his shirt. He also takes the mic from Yuuri.

“Guys, gals and nonbinary pals,” Phichit announces. “Y’all about to witness a fucking massacre. Can I get some Nicki in here please?”

The DJ stands up a little straighter and messes around with something on their laptop.

‘[Muny’ starts blaring through the surprisingly good speakers and Yuuri throws himself into it](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D1qYjOP3Zp8w&t=YmRiY2JkZjU5ZDdiMmY4NGZiYWJhMWVkNTFmNWE3NTFiNjhhMDE0YSxyQXBOR0YzVA%3D%3D&b=t%3AUurT_EOxnhu52TzXgZZhsg&p=http%3A%2F%2Fcrossroadswrite.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F163422798758%2Fone-thing-i-have-not-stopped-thinking-about-since&m=0), with the sort of passion that comes from being incredibly drunk and wanting to bring a man’s ego down by the ear.

Phichit gets on his knees to get those nice shots because he is a man of the people, and also because he is an photographer that loves shooting beautiful pieces of art, and Yuuri’s ass is the most beautiful of all.

It occurs to him that, having the mic in his hand, he probably shouldn’t be shouting like a soccer mom, if soccer moms shouted “Yes bitch!! Fuck it up, Yuuri! Yaaassss, work it! Show us what a real miracle looks like! Fuck! It! Up! Bitch!” while little Stacy was in the middle of a soccer match.

As it is, Yuuri absolutely wrecks it on the dance floor while Phichit hypes him up and then points to Brad™ expectantly.

Brad™ does not start dancing. Brad™ barely manages to pick his chin off the floor to say, “Please step on me.”

Yuuri isn’t very impressed. Neither is Phichit.

“Brad you useless testicle, get the hell off the stage,” Phichit shouts at him. He whirls towards the crowd, making sure the camera does a slow crawl through it as he talks. “Who wants to challenge the living legend of campus himself, Katsuki Yuuri for a dance off?! If you manage to win you get a rare picture with him and I’ll upload it on my Instagram.”

Yuuri kicks off his shoes and crooks a finger at the crowd.

Everyone clamors up that they want to give it a try.

Phichit grins.

He knew this was going to be fucking magical.


	7. yuuchit brotp: college years take 2 part 2

“Oh, it’s Brad™,” Yuuri says, stopping outside their hotel room.

“Brad TM?” Victor asks, stopping too.

“The TM is silent,” Yuuri tells him, unsure if he should wave Brad™ over or just pretend he didn’t see him. The latter is made hard by the fact that Brad™ is coming directly towards him, dragging two other people behind him. “How do you know about Brad™?”

“Phichit told me,” Victor says. “And sent me a video.”

Yuuri regrets ever introducing the two of them, just a little bit. The collective blackmail material - _it’s not blackmail,_  Yuuri, Phichit’s voice chimes in, it _’s healthy appreciation for your entire existence that compels us to document every relevant moment in your life_  - on Yuuri is worrisome.

 “Yuuri! It’s wild I caught you! I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” says Brad™. “But I couldn’t find your facebook anymore, so.”

“Ah,” Yuuri says and Victor puts an arm around his waist for moral support, and also just in case he needs to drag Yuuri away if he sees Yuuri is getting too nervous. “I don’t really have one. Sorry. How- How have you been, Brad?”

“I’ve been cool, dude. And my name is Marcus, actually.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen because what. “I’m so sorry.” Has he been getting this guy’s name wrong all this time? Is he a horrible person?

“Nah, dude. I did go by Brad in college. My name’s actually Marcus Bradley, but I thought Brad made me sound like a jacked up jock, ya know?”

Yuuri does not know. Yuuri is barely sure he’s understood most of that sentence.

“Yeah,” he says, lamely.

“Anyway, I wanted to introduce you to the people I’m dating!” he says, and beams proudly in a way that kind of reminds Yuuri of Jean-Jacques Leroy whenever he talks about his girlfriend. It’s kind of sweet, and you can clearly see how much they love their partners, but you also know that in about 0.8 seconds time they’re going to try to convince you how their partner is _the best partner in the world, yes, even better than yours._

“This are Anna and Jay, aren’t they great!”

“Hello,” Yuuri says politely. “This is Vic-”

“I’m Yuuri’s husband, Victor,” Victor says.

They’ve had a discussion about how they introduce Victor, because Victor loves to announce to anyone who wants to hear that he’s  _Yuuri’s husband, Victor_  while Yuuri, who is so proud of him and all he has accomplished needs people to know that this is  _Victor Nikiforov, my husband._

It’s a very silly debate. Yurio threw one of Victor’s shiny gold medals at their head over it once.

“‘Sup,” says Anna, shaking their hands vigorously.

“Sorry you had to meet Marcus while he was still a major dickbag,” says Jay, and shakes their hands politely.

“Ah, I wouldn’t say…” Yuuri trails off, because he would absolutely say that. Anyone who honest to God carried a ruler on them to use as a bad pick-up line and boast their dick size is what is commonly referred as a  _major dickbag_.

“Nah, dude, Jay’s right. I was, like, not very cool with you, and that’s not chill. So I’m sorry for, you know, all that.”

Yuuri has no idea what to do about this. He looks over at Victor who looks very pleasant and devastatingly beautiful but also kind of lost.

“Um, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, it was awhile ago.”

“You’re a cool dude, Yuuri, I’m glad you’re tapping your celebrity crush’s ass on the regular,” he says, and almost immediately both Anna and Jay elbow him in the ribs. Brad™, excuse him,  _Marcus_ coughs and gives Yuuri an apologetic smile. “And that you’re happily married and succeeding at life too, of course. I’ve seen some of the stuff you do on the ice. It’s some wild fucking shit, man.”

“Thank you?”

Yuuri has no idea what is happening right now, at this moment, in his life.

“Anyway, we’re late to catch a movie, see you later, Yuuri.”

“Bye?” Yuuri says. Asks?

“Enjoy your movie,” Victor says, pleasantly, because he’s always polite.

“He’s a work in progress,” says Anna.

“Sorry about that, he’s a good guy, really,” Jay shrugs.

“Okay,” Yuuri says because what else is he supposed to say.

Anna and Jay say their goodbyes and walk away, holding hands with Bra-  _Marcus_.

Yuuri stares after them for a couple of seconds.

“That was… surreal.”

“I have no clue of what just happened,” Victor agrees. “Want to go skype call Makkachin and take a bath together?”

“Yes, please,” Yuuri sighs, and lets Victor gently steer him into the hotel.

That was some  _wild fucking shit_ , indeed. 


	8. victor nikiforov's extremely good gay moms deciding to have a baby

“I think I have a fever,” Vivi says, walking into Victoria’s office with one of her hands pressed against her forehead and a little frown on her face, which is more than enough to get Victoria up from her chair and across the room.

“Do you think it’s a cold?” she asks worriedly, because Vivi is the kind of person who sacrifices her comfort in the name of fashion, and then spends two weeks sneezing.

“I think it’s something else,” Vivi says, tipping her chin up so Victoria can press her lips against her forehead to try to gauge if she has a fever or not.

“You don’t feel hot,” she says, pulling back, and pressing her hands against her neck. She doesn’t actually know what that does, but it’s what her mother did to her when she was sick, so she gives that a try to see if there’s any weird difference in temperature.

“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure I have,” she pauses dramatically, before bringing a photograph up and shoving it in Victoria’s face, “baby fever.”

Victoria drops her hands. “ _Sweetheart_.”

Vivi wiggles the photograph in Victoria’s face. “Look at how chubby this baby is!”

“Sweetheart…”

“Look at her cheeks!”

Victoria sighs and goes back to sitting on her desk.

“You’re not looking,” Vivi complains.

“ _Honey_ , was that necessary?”

Vivi comes around and sits on her lap, loops one arm around Victoria’s shoulder and angling the photograph so it’s in Victoria’s line of vision. There is a very cute baby girl on it with a little yellow headband with a bow. She is adorably chubby and is attempting to shove her entire fist in her mouth.

“I want a baby,” Vivi says, giving Victoria that little expression that she knows will get her anything. She sounds serious, but Victoria can also smell the margaritas on her breath.

It’s not that Victoria doesn’t want kids, it’s that Geneviève, during all the years they’ve been together, has mentioned actively wanting children maybe a handful of times.

“Tell me again tomorrow and we’ll talk about it,” Victoria tells her.

“You’re not listening to me,” Vivi says pressing her lips together.

“You’ve been drinking.”

“I’ve been _thinking_. Doing a little drink and think. And I’m just tipsy.”

“Hmm-hmm, and what have you been thinking about?” Victoria asks, scooting her chair forward and reaching for her fountain pen. She’s used to doing work with Vivi on her lap.

Vivi sighs and drops her head on Victoria’s shoulder. “My friend from Japan sent me pictures of her goddaughter,” she says, thumbing the edge of the picture, “and she’s so cute and tiny, and I was thinking- I was thinking she’s over there teaching ballet to children and getting into choreographing programs for ice skaters. There are all these kids that will always carry a little bit of what she teaches with them. And I’ve been here…. Not doing anything since I retired and being useless-“

“You’re _not_ useless,” Victoria says, looping an arm around Vivi’s waist.

“I know that. I was thinking about what I’m good at. I’m good at ballet, but I can’t do that anymore. And I’m proud of everything I accomplished when I was still dancing, but the thing I’m most proud of is how good I am at loving you.”

And this is it, this is Victoria’s undoing. This is her whole world in her lap, soft and true and a little sad like she only is with her.

“So I figured, I’d be really good at loving a baby that was a little bit of both of us, right? And even if I don’t do anything else, creating this little human being who is so full of love that they will go and spread that love all on their own is one of the greatest accomplishments, right?” Vivi lifts up her to look at Victoria, looking so fragile for a moment before she frowns a little. “Are you crying?”

Victoria might in fact be crying. “Sometimes I think how lucky I am that you chose to be with me and I almost can’t handle how happy that makes me feel.”

“That’s so sappy,” Vivi tells her, framing her face with her hands and swiping her thumbs over Victoria’s cheekbones.

“You have a sappy wife,” Victoria tells her, absolutely sure that she has her whole heart in her eyes.

“I do, and such a crybaby too. I love my sappy wife.”

“I love you too. And I think you’d be a great mom.”

“Yeah?” Vivi asks, face lighting up.

“Yeah.”

“You’d be a great mom too. Don’t think I don’t know about your baby scrapbooks.”

“Everything is so tiny! They help me de-stress.”

“I know! And it’s so cute! You can bring them when we have a serious conversation about this tomorrow.”

“I thought we were having a serious conversation now.”

“Oh, baby, we really should save it for tomorrow. I’ve been drinking you know,” Vivi says, with that little twist to her lips that made Victoria fall for her in the first place, and by every single deity that there is Victoria loves her ridiculous, beautiful wife.

A year later, Geneviève births the most beautiful boy in the world, and they both love him until they feel like they can’t breathe.

 


	9. victor falls asleep on yuuri what happens next will warm your heart

**To: peaches**

»PHICHIT

»PHICHIT IM DYING

**From: peaches**

«WHATS GOING ON

«?????????????????????????????

**To: peaches**

»HE FELL ASLEEP ON ME

**From: peaches**

«R U OKAY??

«oh

**To: peaches**

» HES SO PRETTY UP CLOSE IM DYING

**From: peaches**

«OH

«OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH BIIIIIIIIITCH!!!!!

«!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**To: peaches**

»IM AFRAID TO BREATHE TOO HARD

»I DON’T WANT TO DISTURB HIM

**From: peaches:**

«PICS OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN

**To: peaches**

»HIS HAIR SMELLS SO NICE

»IS THAT CREEPY???

»I FEEL LIKE THAT’S CREEPY

**From: peaches**

«PICS! OR! IT! DIDN’T! HAPPEN! BITCH!!!!

**To: peaches**

»absolutely not they would be on Instagram in three seconds flat

**From: peaches**

«…………………. I mean

«THE WORLD DESERVES TO SEE

«DOES HE SNORE

«??????????

**To: peaches**

» OF COURSE HE DOESN’T SNORE HE LOOKS LIKE AN ANGEL

»a drooly angel

»I think theres a wetspot in my shirt

**From: peaches**

«pls

«blease im begging u

«pics

«I need to see this

**To: peaches**

»no

**From: peaches**

«ruthless

«why is this a problem????

«are we going to pretend you didn’t daydream about this since you were fourteen

«is that what were doing?

**To: peaches**

»SHUT

«UP

**From: peaches**

«I love being right

**To: peaches**

»I really need to go to the bathroom

»I cant feel my leg and I think its beginning to cramp

**From: peaches**

«damn

«how long have you been sitting there

**To: peaches**

»…………………………………………..

**From: peaches**

«pls tell me its been less than an hour at least

**To: peaches**

»……………………………………………………………………………………………….

**From: peaches**

«Yuuri u uselss bisexual

«just GET UP

**To: peaches**

»BUT HES SLEEPING

»I CANT

»ITD BE INHUMANE

**From: peaches**

«hes a grown ass man what are u gonna do???

«pee on the couch??

**To: peaches**

» DON’T SAY THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**From: peaches**

«then just get him off

«and laterGet Him Off,,,,,,,,,, if u kno what I mean

**To: peaches**

»I hate u

»ur terrible

»this is a CRISIS

**From: peaches**

«why are we sitting here and pretending u cant deadlift that man up and put him to bed

«like are we really gonna act like all those hours at the gym lifting weights weren’t expressly for this????

**To: peaches**

»……………………………………………………………

**From: peaches**

«stop being a fake bitch and put him to bed then!!!!!!

**To: peaches**

»but isn’t it creepy????

»me just??? grabbing him????

**From: peaches**

«did he sit next to you on his own free will??

**To: peaches**

»………yeah

**From: peaches**

«unnecessarily close?

**To: peaches**

»hes a tactile person!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**From: peaches**

»Yuuri I love u but ur a dumb bitch

**To: peaches**

»SHUT UP AND HELP ME!!!!!!!!!! WHAT DO I DO!!!!!!

**From: peaches**

»did u literally just text me so I can tell u its okay to pick him up and put him to bed???

»bc its okay for u to do that its not creepy, uve put my ass to bed a bunch of times

»u can say no homo if it makes u feel better

**To: peaches**

»shuuuuuuuuuuuuuut uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup

»full homo

»god so much homo he makes cute noises when he sleeps he looks like an ANGEL

»I feel like im going to have a HEART ATTACK

**From: peaches**

«that’s gay

«go put ur future husband to bed coward

«and go to the bathroom!!!!!!!! That’s not healthy!!!

**To: peaches**

»don’t call him that!!!! Hes just my coach!!! Stop getting my hopes up!!!!!!!!!!!

»also thank u

**From: peaches**

« <3<3<3

**To: peaches**

» <3<3

«»

Victor blames Mama Katsuki and her delicious food for his current predicament. She always overfeeds him, and there’s something about Yutopia and about Hiroko’s smile that makes him want to indulge a little in said overfeeding. Which more often than not sends him into a food coma and makes him so sleepy he ends up falling asleep on the floor in the main room or in other inconvenient places.

So Victor might have overeaten a little bit, and he might have sat in a little living room the Katsukis have on the second floor to watch a movie with Yuuri so they could both wind down, and Yuuri is so warm all the time and his shoulders are so comfortable that Victor had just… leaned on him a little bit and promptly fallen asleep.

Here’s the thing, though: Victor is an incredibly light sleeper. If anyone tries to move him in his sleep he’ll wake up. If anyone touches him or talks above a barely audible whisper he’ll wake up. So when Yuuri very gingerly takes Victor’s wrist in his hand and slowly moves it to loop around his neck, Victor most definitely feels it, and goes from napping to awake.

Now, a good person would probably open their eyes, tell the person they fell asleep on they’re sorry and walk themselves to bed. Victor might not be a good person. Also he might be a little embarrassed by the fact that he clearly drooled all over Yuuri’s shirt, he can feel a wet spot under the his cheek, so he elects to keep his eyes close and continue to pretend he’s sleeping. Also he’s curious to see what Yuuri is about to do.

At first, Victor thinks he’s just very carefully trying to lay Victor down on the couch so he can escape from Victor’s lethargic clutches, but then he realizes that’s not what he’s doing at all. _Then_ he realizes that Yuuri is actually trying to pick him, as in, he’s trying to carry Victor’s entire bodyweight in his arms which is just a ridiculous concept.

Victor knows Yuuri is strong. All skaters are strong. And he knows that Yuuri works out a lot, and includes a bit more upper body exercises than your regular skater but _still_. Victor is taller and heavier than him. Victor can almost tuck Yuuri under his chin which is very cute and he enjoys a lot. There’s no way Yuuri will actually be able to carry him.

There’s _no way_ , and Victor should probably open his eyes right about now so they won’t both fall on their faces when Yuuri tries. But for some reason… he doesn’t. For some reason he keeps his eyes closed and keeps his breaths slow and measured and his head very comfortably pressed against Yuuri’s chest.

And then he feels himself being lifted up off the couch, his center of balance shifting, as he’s picked up in a bridal carry – one of Yuuri’s arms under his knees, the other under his back as he leans against Yuuri’s chest.

Yuuri sways for a second and Victor holds his breath to see if they’re both about to go toppling over or not, but Yuuri adjusts his grip and starts walking.

Victor has not been carried around since he was small enough for one of his mothers to do it. It’s been more than a _decade_ , and there’s something incredibly comforting and yet incredibly foreign about it.  It takes three steps for Victor to decide he loves this and for him to snuggle up to Yuuri’s chest. Because it’s very comfy and he can, and also he’s a terrible person.

It is in times like this that his mama’s words of wisdom come to him: “Find a boy who can carry you when you’re drunk and you’re set.” And Victor might not be drunk but by god can Yuuri carry him.

Yuuri’s stronger than Victor really anticipated, and he’s feeling extremely gay about it.

He’s almost sad when they reach his room and Yuuri lowers him down to bed, but he lets himself be dropped onto the bed on top of the covers, which is fine, he can get under them when Yuuri leaves, except instead of hearing Yuuri leave, Victor hears him move around in his room, open the door to the closet where Yura had slept when he was over and then he feels a cover being laid on top of him, and then being carefully tucked around him.

Victor cannot believe the universe just dropped an angel on his lap. An angel strong enough to carry him and gentle enough to very gently swipe the hair off his eyes and tuck him properly into bed even when Victor drooled on his shirt.

There’s a very soft woof from somewhere near the foot of the bed, which is quickly shushed by Yuuri.

“Don’t wake him up, Makkachin,” Yuuri whispers. “Come on, come sleep with me, we shouldn’t wake him up.” Followed by the telltale sounds of an adult man and a dog leaving the room and Victor’s door closing gently.

One of these days, Yuuri is going to say those exact words to him and Victor will happily sleep using him as an oversized pillow, but for now he accepts the fact that sleeping without his dog is the price he has to pay for pretending to sleep so he can be carried by Yuuri, and tries not to smile too dumbly into his pillow.


	10. pre-cup of china insomniac softness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: “have you lost your mind?” victuuri of course ❤️ Thanks!

From time to time, when Yuuri’s head is too full and his heartbeat won’t go down enough to allow him to shut his eyes and get some rest, he’ll grab his skate bag and silently make his way towards Ice Castle. Skating figures on the ice has helped his head quiet down and has given him the space he needed to breathe and work through whatever was making his heart rate ratchet up in his chest since he was a teenager.

It’s the one constant in Yuuri’s life, no matter how things around him change, and lately they have been changing so rapidly he barely has time to comprehend it.

There’s a lot he needs to think about, and there’s something disquiet about his room that won’t let him do it, and it most likely has to do with the fact that it’s so close to Victor’s room, with the framed portrait of him and the dozens of posters stashed in his closet,it probably has to do with how his childhood is half-packed up against the walls. There’s a decade of worship pressed into the walls of that room, and his feelings towards Victor are so different now. The same… but different in a core way.

Yuuri loved Victor growing up. Loved how he smiled, loved how he skated, how he won, how he talked. Loved the elegance in his movements, the power in his jumps, the bend of his wrists and sweep of his hands through the air during routines. He loved how his lips fit around his teeth when he smiled. He loved everything Victor had crafted himself into to make others fall in love with him.

He adored him to the point of being terrified of meeting him.

And now he has.

And now he’s spent an entire summer with him, so close he can touch, so close he can see how he has a crooked tooth on the left side of his mouth, that he gets the faintest dusting of freckles on his cheekbones and shoulders when it’s summer, that his eyes get ocean blue on hot days and a darker stormier shade when it rains. Close enough to see how his clothes perpetually have dog hair in them and to smell his current favourite flavor of chapstick.

Being so close to Victor makes him scared, but it also makes him brave, and it makes him stupid. Makes him sit a little too close, makes him cup Victor’s face in his hands under the pretense of swiping off a fallen lash. Makes him take the longer route during his run to stop by the corner store to buy the candy he likes, makes him let Victor put his hands on him when he doesn’t let anyone else, when he usually dislikes being touched.

Growing up, he loved Victor in that far away sort of way you love celebrities. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that having him so close would make him not just love him but fall in love with him, but it does, somehow.

It _does_ , and Yuuri is left with his mind buzzing with it, because Victor is so much, and Yuuri… Yuuri is not. Comparatively, Yuuri falls short in almost every imaginable way.

Being close to Victor also makes him selfish. It makes him greedy. It makes him want to build himself up, so he doesn’t fall so short, makes him want to fight to stand on equal footing instead of stepping back quietly. It makes him want to prove to everyone that he can make himself worthy of this, of him.

The Cup of China will come up soon enough and it makes Yuuri restless. He feels like he’s lagging behind, like he’ll lose, like he needs something under his sleeve just in case.

Something that’ll surprise everyone, something like…

Yuuri doesn’t really think much about it before he starts skating a little faster, gearing up for a jump.

The thing about jumping in skating is that it happens at a dizzying speed, and that it can be very, _very_ dangerous. The only way to stop when you’ve already launched yourself into a jump is when you hit the ground.

Yuuri gears himself up for the jump, and just as he does it he hears one of the doors slam open and what is unmistakably Victor’s voice yelling, “What are you doing?!”

Yuuri knows it’s a bad jump when he takes off, and is proven right when he hits the ice on his shoulder, knocking the breath out of him.

That’s probably going to bruise but not more than normal. Yuuri knew how to fall before he knew how to skate.

He pushes himself off the ice to see Victor trying to walk over to him in his shoes.

“Have you lost your mind?” he asks and oh, he’s angry.

Victor doesn’t really get angry often, or at all. Where Yuuri can have a short temper if prodded in the right place, Victor always remains cool and collected. His first response to anything unpleasant and infuriating is a cold smile and a dismissing attitude. He never gets outwardly angry towards anyone that Yuuri has seen, but oh does he look angry now.

“You shouldn’t walk on the ice with your shoes on,” Yuuri tells him, starting to get up.

“And you shouldn’t be practicing jumps at two in the morning when there’s no one around! Stop moving!”

“I’m okay,” Yuuri says, and sits up because he is okay.

“You could not be!” Victor says and kneels down on the ice next to Yuuri. He’s wearing loose pajama pants that are too short at the ankles and that Yuuri knows for absolute sure are his. He hasn’t figured out how some pieces of his clothing somehow end up in Victor’s closet, or why Victor wears them, but it keeps happening.

“But I am,” Yuuri says, but still lets Victor put his hands on his neck and feel him up in a way that is completely clinical to make sure nothing is broken.

“Do you know how dangerous that was?! You can’t just practice jumps without anyone to make sure you’re okay! What if you fell wrong and there wasn’t someone around to call for help?! Why would you do something so absolutely reckless?”

Because being close to Victor makes him stupid, and it makes him scared, and it makes him brave and greedy and selfish.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t really thinking.”

“What were you even trying to _do_?”

And here’s the thing: Yuuri could tell him. Yuuri could ask him for help. Victor is the only person who _could_ help him. The only person who has landed a flip in competition. But for some reason… he doesn’t.

“Nothing,” he says, maybe a little too fast. “Just… I was thinking about falling on the salchow and…”

Victor presses his lips together. He still has one hand on the side of Yuuri’s neck.

“I really wasn’t thinking,” he tries again. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I know that was stupid.”

“Okay,” Victor says and gets his hands off Yuuri, steps back. “We can work on the salchow tomorrow some more.” He offers Yuuri a hand and helps him get to his feet. Yuuri makes sure to not lean on him too much for help because Victor is very much still not wearing skates right now and he doesn’t want him to fall over.

Yuuri dusts the ice off himself, stretches a little to really make sure everything is okay.

Victor looks at him with a pensive look, and Yuuri notices the bags under his eyes.

“You know,” Victor says, “if you’re struggling with something, you can just tell me. I’m your couch, after all.”

Yuuri never told his coaches anything that troubled him. He internalized it until his anxiety overwhelmed him.

“I know,” he says and absolutely means it, because Victor is not just his coach, no matter how much they both tiptoe around that fact. “I think I need some rest. I’m tired.”

“Let’s go back then. I’ve gotten some new tea I’ve been meaning to try. It’s supposed to help you have a peaceful rest.”

“That sounds nice,” Yuuri says and starts skating slowly towards the exit, keeping pace with Victor to make sure he doesn’t slip on the ice. “By the way, did you see my pajama pants anywhere? I think I lost them.”

Victor’s ears turn a little red at the tips. “Maybe they’re still in the laundry.”

“Hm, you’re probably right,” Yuuri says, pretending he can’t see Victor wearing them in this exact moment.

“Did you see my maroon sweater, by any chance?” Victor asks, dipping his eyes down to where it is very clearly hanging a bit loosely off of Yuuri’s shoulders.

Yuuri steps away to go untie his skates and very studiously doesn’t look at Victor. “Have you checked the laundry?”

It’s not Yuuri’s fault that their laundry gets mixed up, somehow. Besides it’s only fair that he gets to wear Victor’s clothes as well. They’re very soft.

“What were you doing here, anyway?” Yuuri asks, very clearly changing the subject.

There’s a slight pause. “I couldn’t sleep, and you weren’t in your room, so I figured…” he says, passing Yuuri his shoes and taking his skates from him, cleaning them up.

“You came to check up on me?”

“Yes.” Another pause. “And watching you skate figures is peaceful.”

That gets Yuuri a little bit. As a usual rule, he doesn’t like being watched, especially when he doesn’t know he’s being watched. But with Victor, he somehow can’t find it in himself to mind much.

“You don’t have to watch from there, you know? You can sit closer. I don’t mind you watching me.”

Yuuri peeks over at Victor to see what his reaction is to that. Victor is giving him that intense look, like he’s trying to figure something out, figure Yuuri out, and there’s something he doesn’t quite get.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, voice soft, a little smile tilting his lips.

Yuuri smiles back, just a little, and makes a mental note to talk with Yuuko to practice the flip. He feels like he needs it, not just to win, but for Victor. To surprise him, something Yuuri might be afraid he’s getting dangerously addicted to.

“Tea, then?” Victor asks, Yuuri’s skates already safely in his bag and getting up from the bench.

Yuuri gets up too, makes sure he stands a little closer than he usually would. “Tea, then.”


	11. thirstuber victor nikiforov reacts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Hi I'm here with a prompt nobody asked for but am desperate to see come to fruition: Victor reacting to Yuuri dancing to Dally by Hyolyn... Chris Koo's dance cover on youtube was what *cough* inspired this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was organizing Stuff and just noticed i accidentally skipped this one when i first posted this oof
> 
> also here’s some versions of dally: [chris koo (cover)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dJnGZBLaDqs) | [hyolin (original)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b75eENj0WCQ) | [1MILLION Dance Studios (remastered)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXIdmZwPy3k)

Victor sits in a lavish armchair, legs crossed at the knee and a full wine bottle set on the side table next to him. His laptop is set on a table by his side almost completely out of frame.

“Welcome to Victor’s Power Hour, where you send me your boy crushes and I’m gay about it,” he says, holding a fancy looking wine glass cupped between his fingers. “Today we’re going to be gayviewing a youtuber. I don’t know anything about him except that he’s a gamer – which I, as a gay, know absolutely nothing about – and sometimes does kpop dance covers.”

He leans over to click on some things on his laptop. “He’s one of the most requested people to be gayviewed during Power Hour, and honestly, I can understand why. That jawline? Hmmyes.”

The youtube video Victor will be watching appears on screen overlayed over where you could see his laptop.

“Is everyone ready? Grab your wine, beer, of alcoholic beverage of choice. If you’re not allowed to drink yet, go grab your juice. I’ll be drinking rosé today. Because I’m a bottom.” He takes a sip. “Anyway, you all know the rules. Drink every time you feel gay. And if you’re straight – first of all my condolences – just drink whenever you feel less straight or would absolutely tap that.

“This man apparently has a tiny, tiny poodle, so _obviously_ we will be starting with that. Someone sent me a compilation of every time the precious puppy interrupted him while he was playing his games. This is how we truly test a man’s worth. If he’s mean to his dog, he’s cancelled.”

He hits play. The video starts with a beep and a picture of a very small poodle with its belly up and tongue lolling out.

“I love this dog. I don’t even need to see the rest of the video. Nothing can beat that picture.”

The video continues to Yuuri sitting in a gaming chair with one of his headphones half pushed out of his ears and wearing a comfortable looking hoody with the twitch logo on it. His voice is calming as he talks through what he’s doing in the game.

“It’s thundering, so I’m sorry if there are a lot of cuts in this video. My dog gets really scared and I don’t like leaving her alone for long,” Yuuri says and as if on cue a soft whimpering comes from off-camera. Yuuri immediately turns and starts cooing at the dog, pushing his chair back and leaning down to touch something on the floor.

“This is so sweet,” Victor says, taking a big sip of his wine. “Whoever sent me this knows exactly what I’m about.”

The video continues with the puppy interrupting Yuuri and Yuuri cooing at it and trying to comfort it, until at one point puts her on his lap, where she immediately burrows under his hoody and stays there.

Victor keeps taking sips of his wine and smiling at his laptop.

Most of the other clips go like that. Vicchan interrupts Yuuri and ends up on his lap, either taking a nap, or staring intently at the screen, sometimes making soft doggy noises at it, which Yuuri translates into game commentary.

When the video is done, Victor looks directly at the camera and says. “Whoever sent that in: _thank you for my life_.”

He then notices his glass is empty. “Oh,” he says, looking a bit surprised, before reaching for the bottle to refill it. “Guess we’re being gayer than planned today folks. But honestly, can anyone blame me. He’s so adorable!”

He swirls the wine in his glass a little. “Okay, next we’re going to watch a dance cover by him, just so we can cover our basis. We could watch some gaming things, but I’m not that kind of gay, so we’re not going to do that. I don’t care about fortwatch or overnite or whatever that’s called.” He takes another sip of wine. “And if that pisses you off….” He shrugs. “Sad.”

He clicks on a couple of things on his laptop.

“Anyway… this song is called Dally. I have no idea if he can actually dance or if he’s just failing at dancing for the views but we’re gonna find out.”

He clicks play, and takes a sip of wine. Yuuri appears on screen wearing, short shorts, kneepads, and a long-sleeved crop top. Victor promptly chokes on his wine, and has to slap a hand over his face. “ _What_?!”

Yuuri looks directly at the camera and says, “I hope every single one of you that voted for this song, knows I hate you personally. Phichit- you’re dead to me. You know what you did.”

“He was so _cute_ what’s going on?” Victor asks, sounding like the definition of gay panic.

Yuuri steps back, and stretches, rolling his wrists and ankles before the music starts. Victor looks directly at the camera as if to ask for an explanation for what’s going on.

When the music starts and Yuuri gets into it, dragging his hands up his ass and turning to give the camera a look that is so charged with sexual energy that Victor immediately throws back his wine and blindly reaches for the bottle for more.

“Did he just do the splits?!” he asks, having drained his third glass and reaching for the bottle. On the video Yuuri rolls his hips in a way that makes Victor set down his glass and start drinking from the bottle.

“I better stop? No _you_ better stop! _Oh my god_! Is this what big dick energy is? This sounds like a bottom song! This sounds like a thirsty Ariana Grande song! Why does he look… like _that_! That’s not bottom energy!”

He continues watching the video, at one point whimpering and quickly covering it by putting the bottle to his lips and throwing his head back.

“I feel like I’ve been spiritually rawed,” he says, looking at the end screen of the video. He turns to the camera. “I don’t know what just happened but I’m gay.” He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, trying to cross his legs and wincing. “My gayview is twenty-five out of ten, and that’s it for Victor’s Power Hour, also Yuuri, if you see this, DM me. Thanks goodnight.”

The video ends abruptly, completely unlike how every other video of Victor’s Power Hour has ended.

Somewhere in Detroit, Katsuki Yuuri has started screeching since he saw that his favourite youtuber has made a video about him and has not stopped since.


	12. local fic writer gets prompted angst starters what happens next will yeet ur expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "This is not working out" for the prompt thing for victuuri pleaseeee

“This is not working out,” Victor says in a huff.

“Yes it is.”

“ _No_ , Yuuri. No, it isn’t. What about _this_ ,” he says, gesturing to the space between them, “looks anywhere close to working out to you?”

“Don’t say that. We can make it work out,” Yuuri says, putting as much conviction as he can in his voice, even though he’s so so tired, even though they’ve been at it for so long that he’s starting to doubt himself. But he won’t voice that, he can’t voice that, because if he does they both lose.

Victor pulls his bangs back, lets his hand rest on his forehead, eyes cast upwards as if asking for strength. His voice is soft when he talks. “We had a good run, Yuuri.”

“You’re being unreasonable,” Yuuri tells him, pressing his lips together, grinding his teeth. He never thought Victor would just give up like this.

“ _I’m_ being unreasonable? You’re the one chasing after something that clearly isn’t working out! It’s done, Yuuri. Just accept it. I did.”

“I _won’t_. You’re being a coward just walking away from this.”

Victor drops his hand and gives Yuuri a disbelieving look but doesn’t say anything. They stand there in silence, with this mess festering between them.

Yuuri breaks it first.

“We can’t go to bed like this,” he sighs, voice soft, resigned.

“No! We can’t! We have no bed to go to because we don’t know where the instructions manual is! Just let me call the store and see if they can help us!” Victor says, gesturing again at the sad looking frame of a half assembled bed, that they somehow managed to not only assemble the wrong way, but also managed to screw in one of the screws so tight that they’ve spent the last half-hour trying to unscrew it with no success at all.

“I still think we can do it.”

“It’s been four hours!”

Yuuri huffs. And then he concedes because it _has_ been four hours and he’s tired. He wants to lay down and have his husband octopus himself around him for eight hours straight. His back hurts from bending over. He is _old_.

“Well, the store is probably closed at this time, so now what? Do we just sleep on the floor?”

Victor’s king sized mattress is propped up against one of the walls. Yuuri has no idea how Victor got it inside originally because it doesn’t fit through the door, and the mangled impossible to disassemble bed is taking up too much space in the room for them to be able to lay the mattress down.

They both stare at it.

“Mama Hiroko?” Victor asks.

If anyone knows how to get out of this mess, it’s Yuuri’s mother. “Mama Hiroko,” he agrees and goes to get his laptop to skype her.

Yuuri’s mom talks them through managing to unscrew and disassemble the bed so they can at least lay down the mattress on the floor, which is, of course, when they find the instructions manual, because as soon as the bed is made Makkachin gets up from his napping spot in the corner of the room, where he had been watching Victor and Yuuri get increasingly frustrated, and laying on top of their instructions manual.


	13. yuuchit brotp: college years take 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Remember "Damn, Daniel"? Could we have a snippet of Phichit making that kind of videos with Yuuri? I love how you write them having fun together. Thanks!

 “Hey, Yuuri, can I meme you for my Instagram?” Pichit asks during their lunch break.

It says a lot about their friendship that instead of an immediate no, Yuuri raises an eyebrow and says, “Meme how?”

“Do you know the damn Daniel vine?”

“Yes,” Yuuri says cautiously.

“Like that.”

Yuuri seems to consider it for a minute. “Is it going to involve filming me doing something embarrassing?”

“Would I ever do that?” Phichit asks, touching his chest and mocking a hurt look.

“Yes,” Yuuri says, a little too quickly.

“Rude. But fair. I promise it won’t be anything embarrassing.”

“Swear on your hamsters,” Yuuri says, pointing his chopsticks at him threateningly.

Phichit raises a hand and says, as solemnly as he can, “I swear on my hamster I won’t post you doing anything embarrassing.”

«»

 [video description: several clips of Phichit running up to Yuuri and shouting “Damn, Yuuri!” camera focused on Yuuri’s exposed ankles where his pants are rolled up, to varying degrees of surprise from Yuuri. In the very last clip, Yuuri is bundled up in several layers and is almost covered from head to toe with the glaring exception of his ankles, “Damn, Yuuri, back at it again with the rolled up pants!”]

Liked by **katsuki-fc** , **saracrisp** , **v-nikiforov** , **thechulanontcentral** , **christophe-gc** and **362,356 others**

**phichit+chu** absolutely superb you funky little bisexual

_View all 1,453 comments_

**kingkatsuki** Not to be rude or anything but Katsuki Yuuri has absolutely no business looking as beautiful as he does. Why does he look like a model when he’s caught unaware? Why does he look like an angel? Was he sent by god to torture me specifically? Does god hate me? Why is his little laugh when he gets startled so cute? I need to talk to the manager I have a complain to make because I feel personally victimized by Katsuki Yuuri.

**victornikiforovsfootkink** hmmmm interesting interesting

**katsudont** Katsuki Yuuri is out here showing us his ANKLES like a HARLOT,,, unbelievable

«»

“They said with great power came great responsibility,” Phicihit intones dramatically.”I should’ve listened to them. I should’ve listened to their warning, but now it is too late and I must shoulder this burden on my own.”

“Is this about the foot fetish Instagrams that started following you after you posted that video?”

“Yes,” Phichit says, looking forlornly down at his phone. “Why can’t people be kinky on their own time and _away_ from my pure Instagram posts?”

“Pure. Right,” Yuuri says, sounding amused.

Phichit squints at him. “Why are you so nonchalant about the kinksters?” He gasps. “Is it because you’re a closet kinkster too? Yuuri!”

“Shut up,” Yuuri snorts. “You know why I’m desensitized to the Internet, Phichit. You _know why_.”

Phichit, indeed, knows why. There are a lot of blogs dedicated to Yuuri’s various body parts. The good people on the Internet are absolute thirsty deviants, and Yuuri has never been the same since he found that explicit Katsuki Yuuri confessions blog. Also, he’s not so secretly a kinkster. Phichit knows _exactly_ what kind of stuff Yuuri is hiding in the back of his closet.

“That’s fair. Hey, do you want to know who else liked that post? Victor Nikiforov.”

Yuuri goes very very still, his entire focus snaps to Phichit in an almost unnerving way. “What?”

Phichit turns his phone towards Yuuri showing Victor’s username among the likes on his post.

The sound Yuuri makes sounds painful on his throat and can be heard by dogs in a fourty mile radius.

«»

[video description: a series of short clips of Phichit going “Damn, Yuuri,” as Yuuri shoves an impressive amount of food in his mouth to the point his cheeks bulge like a chipmunk. The very last clip Yuuri is shoving food in his mouth as Phichit says, “Damn, Yuuri. What that mouf do?” There’s a second where all is still as Yuuri looks at Phichit, seeming to process what was just said to him, before he swallows and launches himself at Phichit, making him screech and run away. The chase ends with Yuuri tackling Phichit down and the phone falling away from Phichit, so you can only hear him screech. When Phichit grabs the camera again, he pulls his arm into the frame which now has the faint mark of teeth and cries, “He bit me!”]

Liked by **katsuki-fc** , **thechulanontcentral** , **saracrisp** , **leo-dela-iglesia** and **354,346 others**

**phichit+chu** he snacc but he also atacc :(

_View all 1,235 comments_

**yuuchuchu** Phichit Chulanont died for all of us. He died for our sins. And we should be thankful

**ace-of-axels** vore

«»

“You bit me!”

“That’s the last one, Phichit.”

“I can’t believe you bit me!”

“No more memeing.”

“I have your teeth imprinted on my arm!”

“And whatever you’re doing filming me looking at Victor. Stop.”

“Teeth! On my arm! Look!”

Yuuri looks at Phichit’s arm, not looking particularly impressed. To be fair, there’s barely any marks. There’s more spit than anything on his arm.

“Are you listening to me? I’m cutting your memeing off.”

“Are you grounding me? What are you? My father?”

“Yes!”

“Ooh, Daddy.”

“No!”

Phichit laughs and holds up his hand. “Okay, that was the last one, I promise.”

«»

[video description: Yuuri watching a skating competition on his laptop, completely focused. The camera focused on the screen where Victor Nikiforov is skating, and then on Yuuri’s face as Phichit says, “Damn Yuuri!” and is quickly shushed by Yuuri. A clip of Victor and Phichit at a skating competition which looks overcrowded. The camera is focusing on Yuuri who is looking at something longingly. The camera follows his gaze to Victor who is smiling and talking with a couple reports a good distance away, as Phichit says “Damn Yuuri!” and again is shushed by a panicked looking Yuuri who snaps his gaze to him as soon as he realizes he’s being watched and says “What are you doing? Stop that, what if he sees!?”

To which Phichit answers, “I’m collecting material for when you marry Victor. This will be my magnus opus.” That gets him an eyeroll, before the camera cuts to the next clip. In this one the camera is focusing on a computer screen again but instead of Victor, it’s Yuuri and Victor standing at rinkside as Victor applies lipbalm to Yuuri’s lips with his finger accompanied by a laughing “Damn Yuuri!”

The next clip is Victor leaning on Yuuri and squeezing him babbling about a hot springs in broken Japanese. His shirt is clearly off in what looks very clearly like a restaurant. “Damn Yuuri!” Phichit says, sounding scandalized.

The next “Damn Yuuri!” is said in a triumphant, almost euphoric tone as the camera focus on Victor tackle kissing Yuuri onto the ice.  And the next one is said in a drawn out way, almost like a low whistle, as Yuuri, this time on a computer screen, pulls Victor to him by the tie.

The second to last “Damn Yuuri,” is said in a shout as the camera zooms in and out of Victor and Yuuri’s hand with rings on them. The very last “Damn, Yuuri,” is said through tears and in a hushed whisper as Victor and Yuuri exchange vows at a altar, followed by Phichit appearing in the frame, with a very obvious crying face in between Yuuri and Victor who are smiling so hard that it looks like it hurts a little. The video finishes with Phichit saying, “Back at it again, with the iconique relationship!”]

Liked by **christophe-gc** , **saracrisp** , **v-nikiforov** , **katsuki-fc** , **thechulanontcentral** and **743,345 others**

**phichit+chu** BEST WISHES FOR MY NOW MARRIED BESTIE, I LOVE YOU!!!! YOU’RE DOING GREAT SWEETIE!!!


	14. time freezes when you meet soulmate au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "Time freezes soulmate au... Plsss"

Yuuri has spent what feels like an eternity looking at Victor, on screens, on shiny posters on his bedroom, from the corner of his eye at competitions. Yuuri has spent so much of his time looking at Victor, being inspired by him, studying every minor movement he makes that even though he has never met him, he’s confident he would know him blind, that he would know him by voice alone.

In screens and on paper it’s easy to stare at Victor. It’s easy to indulge himself, and let his eyes trail through every curve and line that makes Victor up. In person it’s a little harder, a little riskier. Yuuri does it covertly and with his heart hammering in his chest.

Staring someone in the eyes is a dangerous affair. It’s a suspended _if_ that can violently and all-encompassingly change your life.

Three seconds is all it takes.

Or at least, that’s the average time scientists have agreed upon. It might be longer for some people, shorter for others. The science of soulmates, by virtue of how metaphysical the entire thing is, could never be an exact one.

It’s still a mystery, why time stops when you stare your soulmate in the eyes for the first time, and it’s an even bigger mystery why time resumes when you either touch them or walk away from them. It all seems so arbitrary, from the minimum eye contact time required from the distance you have to walk for time to restart.

It’s terrifying to think about the possibility of a soulmate, so Yuuri tries to avoid eye-contact as much as possible, _especially_ with Victor. Not that Victor would ever look at him. Not that there’s any universe in which Victor could be Yuuri’s soulmate. But still, Yuuri avoids ever looking Victor in the eye, because there’s always that little part of his brain that is tragically, pityingly hopeful and what if, what if, _what if_.

So Yuuri holds himself on that edge of not knowing, being terrified of knowing. In his head, someday he would be on the podium with Victor, and be able to finally look at him in the face for however long he could get away with. He’d introduce himself. They could shake hands, maybe take a picture together. Victor might even remember his name during the banquet and allow Yuuri to sit in the same table as him.

And then Sochi happens. And then Yuuri finishes dead last, and his dog dies, and he gets yelled at in a bathroom by an angry Russian teen when his tears have barely dried on his cheeks, and then-

“A commemorative photo?” Victor asks and smiles. He’s looking at Yuuri right in the eyes. He always seems to look everyone straight on. “Sure.”

And then Victor stares right at him and doesn’t even recognize him as a competitor and Yuuri can’t-

Today has been gut-punch after gut-punch and he’s so tired. The disappointment and heartbreak rolls down his spine and settles heavily in his stomach as Yuuri realizes that he wasn’t even a blip on Victor’s radar.

He can hear his blood rushing through his head and nothing else as he turns to walk away.

“Wait,” Victor says, practically shouts. “Katsuki Yuuri, _wait_ ,” he calls out, when Yuuri doesn’t immediately stop and there’s something in his voice that sounds almost desperate.

Today has been so much and Yuuri should just keep moving, should just get away from this entire mess as fast as possible so he can get back to his hotel room and cry alone in the bath tub. There’s no reason for him to stop.

He stops.

He turns around slowly, and looks nervously in Victor’s vague direction. He doesn’t think he could stomach looking him in the eye again.

Victor’s coming towards him, walking fast, almost running and his steps are _so loud_. They echo strangely. They’re all Yuuri can hear along with his heartbeat and his stuttering breathing as he tries his best not to cry.

And then it hits him.

 _It’s the only thing he can hear_.

He looks around, and the world is still around him, everyone caught mid-motion. Yuuri’s seen it happen in movies and cinematic recreations during documentaries, but he never thought he would experience it.

Something that the movies get wrong is how _unsettling_ it is for time to stand still around you. For all sound to cut off abruptly, and for everyone to be held on a breath. Existing on stolen time feels surreal and off-putting.

His eyes drag from their slow sweep of the room to Victor who stops in front of him, close but not breaking Yuuri’s personal bubble.

His eyes are bluer up-close, and he’s wearing a complicated expression Yuuri has never seen him wear in all his time watching Victor. He looks raw. He looks lost.

“Oh,” Yuuri says very quietly, as Victor stands in front of him, the only moving thing besides Yuuri himself.

“I’m sorry if that was insensitive,” Victor says, and he sounds desperate. It twists his tone in a way Yuuri doesn’t think he ever heard before. “I thought it might cheer you up.”

This is the point where Yuuri should probably reassure him that his rude attitude had nothing to do with Victor himself, that Victor could do nothing wrong. But instead what comes out of Yuuri’s mouth is, “You know who I am?”

Victor furrows his eyebrows. There’s a dip over his right eyebrow when he does it that the cameras had never caught.

“Of course I know who you are,” Victor says, like it’s obvious. And then his forehead smoothes out and his eyebrows raise as if he suddenly _understands_. “Oh, you thought- I was offering because you seemed down earlier, and I know you’re a fan so I thought it might cheer you up. It’d be a shame if one bad competition made you stop. You’re an interesting competitor, Yuuri.”

Yuuri chokes on his own spit from the moment Victor says he _knows_ he’s a fan and forgets how to breathe until Victor finishes speaking.

Victor knows who he _is_.

Victor thinks he’s _interesting_.

Victor is his _soulmate._

Is Yuuri hallucinating right now? Did he smash his head too hard against the ice on one of his falls and now he’s in a hospital somewhere daydreaming his perfect life like in those Christmas specials?

He needs to sit down.

“Are you okay?” Victor asks.

“Ah,” Yuuri says, because he is _absolutely_ not okay. This has gone way out of the bounds of okay.

“Is this okay?” Victor asks, and his voice is very quiet. Tentative. And when Yuuri doesn’t say anything because his voice is still stuck somewhere in his throat and he’s still trying to remember how breathing works, Victor says, “Ah, did I get it wrong then? Not a fan?” He smiles in a way that looks like it hurts this up close. “Sorry to have stopped you, then. This must be really underwhelming for you. Were you expecting someone different?” he tilts his head in a way that is too calculated. He’s smiling in a way that narrows his eyes.

It prompts Yuuri into blurting out, “You’re more than I could’ve dreamed for,” because this day couldn’t possibly get worse than it already is.

He regrets it as soon as he says it, can feel his face heat up and knows he must look blotchy red and ugly. His eyes must still be red-rimmed from earlier and he’s still sweaty from his free and his entire body aches and-

And Victor Nikiforov is standing in front of him startled into blushing. His entire posture changes, from tilted head and harsh smile into flustered and surprised.

“Ah. I’m- sorry, I didn’t mean- It’s been a long day,” Yuuri sighs out, looking away, shoulders drawn up.

At any second now Victor is going to turn his back and walk as far away from Yuuri as he possibly can until time restarts itself. Yuuri is waiting for it to happen. He’s been Victor’s soulmate for five minutes and he’s already fucking it up spectacularly.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Victor asks. “Over dinner?” he adds and extends his hand for Yuuri to shake.

In movies, whenever a soulmate is revealed, there’s a swooping gesture, like a grand kiss. There’s people falling in love at first sight, and riding off to the sunset.

Reality is a messy conversation full of hiccups and Victor offering Yuuri his hand to shake.

“No,” Yuuri says, and Victor starts dropping his hand. “I don’t really want to talk about it, but dinner sounds nice,” he says, trying very hard not to stutter through any of that and mostly succeeding.

He takes Victor’s hand, wraps his fingers around it and squeezes a little. The world hurtles into motion around them, unbearably loud once more. It’s jarring and Yuuri flinches a little, peering at Victor to see if he noticed.

But Victor is so focused on him, Yuuri finds it hard for him not to have noticed and wow his eyes really are blue, they’re more breathtaking than any camera could capture. His lips are shiny with lip gloss and this up close he smells like sweat and like deodorant and Yuuri can see every single hair on his head and he’s so beautiful. So unfairly unbelievably beautiful that Yuuri’s breathe catches in his chest.

“Do you have any preferences?” Victor asks. He’s still holding Yuuri’s hand. They’ve been standing there holding hands for too long and they should probably let go, but Yuuri’s so mind-numbingly scared of letting go and waking up from this dream that he can’t make himself be the one to do it. “In restaurants, I mean?”

“No sea food, please.”

“You don’t like sea food?” Victor asks.

“Sea food doesn’t like me,” Yuuri says, and it’s not really funny but Victor still laughs. Yuuri feels a surge of pride that feels addicting in the back of his tongue.

“No sea food then,” Victor says and Yuuri can see the faintest laughing lines in the corner of his eyes. It’s terribly charming.

Victor’s terribly charming and he’s hardly done anything but exist in Yuuri’s general direction.

They really should let go of each other’s hands at this point. Victor’s hands may be cold and dry but Yuuri feels like he’s overheating. He’s starting to sweat. There’s people around them and they all seem to be staring. There’s a crescendo of voices that seem to be whispering about them.

Yuuri drops his hand ready to pull away, but Victor holds on to it, squeezes his fingers. He seems to have noticed everyone looking at them too, the cellphones pointed at them.

“Are you available to have dinner right now?” Victor asks.

Yuuri looks around, and doesn’t have to think much about it. He nods, and as soon as he does he’s being pulled past the people and outside by Victor, and Yuuri just lets himself be led.

They end up at an out of the way restaurant where they sit and talk, stilted and awkward because _what now_ , and they talk until it’s not awkward anymore and until they’re both leaning toward each other on the table, eyes only on the other.

And this doesn’t make up for the disaster that was today. It doesn’t make up for Yuuri’s horrible score, or Yuuri’s dead dog, or how Yuuri disappointed everyone who believe in him, but it’s a good foothold to help him prop himself up from how far down he has fallen, until he can dust his knees and try again, like he has been doing for years now.

But this time, when he does it, it’s a little less alone, and with his eyes opened to a lot more love than they had been before.


	15. messy drunk avenges friend after bad restaurant critique by accidentally seducing the critic, more at 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: From the weirdly specific au prompt list! “my best friend owns a restaurant and you wrote a bad review of it in the local paper so it has become my goal to track you down and fight you” au

“You!” Yuuri shouts, pointing his finger accusingly, voice definitely too loud for such a quiet street.

Listen, here’s the thing. Yuuri isn’t a confrontational person. Really, he isn’t. He has enough anxiety that just _thinking_ about confrontation sends him running for the hills.

“Yes, you! Gorgeous man with the cute dog!”

Yuuri isn’t a loud person, either. He _promises_ he’s not. No, really! You can ask anyone who has known him for any period of time. He’s quiet and non-confrontational and a mess with gorgeous people.

“Come here, and fight me, coward!”

And Yuuri isn’t even violent. In the _slightest_. His parents have raised him to solve his conflicts by talking, with compassion, and critical thinking. He swears they did! And he’s not aggressive. He hasn’t even thrown a single punch in his entire twenty-three years of life.

“Get your objectively perfect ass in here!”

Here’s what Yuuri is right now: drunk on too many beers and upset that Yuuko’s restaurant got a bad review by an important food critique.

Should he be doing this? No. Can we stop himself now that he has stomped his way in front of Victor Nikiforov? Also no. This is out of his hands now. Drunk Yuuri is driving this car, and Sober Yuuri will have to deal with the wreck when he comes around.

“I’m sorry?” Victor says. He doesn’t look very threatened, he looks more confused than anything else, if Yuuri really had to guess.

“How dare you! You think just because you’re undoubtedly the most beautiful person in the world you can just go around giving fantastic restaurants bad reviews?!”

Victor looks at Yuuri and then down at his dog. He stares at his dog for a solid five seconds, and his beautiful poodle stares back, looking as clueless as Victor does.

“I’m sorry, are you yelling at me or flirting with me?” Victor asks, sounding genuinely confused.

It makes Yuuri’s face heat up. He knows he looks like a whole mess. His face gets an ugly blotchy red when he’s drunk like this, and he’s been letting the triplets play with his hair for most of the afternoon so it’s probably disheveled beyond repair right now. He probably looks slightly crazy.

“Yes!” Yuuri answers, still a little too loudly.

He really should stop. Sober Yuuri is going to kill him, so he should just turn on his heel and walk away, except when Drunk Yuuri is driving, the car has no breaks, so vroom vroom bitch.

“I’m going to take you the fuck out,” Yuuri informs him. And then grabs his wrist and starts pulling him along.

He honestly expects more resistance from Victor’s part, but he just lets himself be led.

“Where are we going?” Victor asks, sounding curious.

“I’m going to teach you a lesson,” Yuuri says, stomping towards Yuuko’s restaurant, which is gratefully not far from where they had been. Yuuri had barely stumbled out of it before he had ran into Victor. Almost quite literally.

If anything horrible happens, he can always blame it on Yuuko. He’s pretty sure that releasing Drunk Yuuri out in the wild unsupervised counts as some type of negligence.

He pushes through the front door of Yuuko’s and leads Victor to his favourite table, pulling out a chair for him and then pushing him down on it by putting his hands on his shoulders.

“Wow, you’re really strong,” Victor says, not seeming at all bothered.

“It’s from beating my dough every day,” Yuuri tells him

Victor makes this weird wheezing noise in his throat, and coughs out an out of breathe, “Excuse me?”

Yuuri, instead of answering, goes into the back and calls out for Yuuko, rolling his sleeves up and preparing some appetizers.

“Yuuko, I’m avenging your name,” he tells her, very seriously.

“Does my name need avenging?” Yuuko asks, a little confused.

“From Victor Nikiforov! He’s here, and I’ll show him how great you are! Don’t worry, Yuuko!”

“Katsuki Yuuri, _what did you do!”_

“Don’t worry!” Yuuri repeats and heads back to the table. He slaps down a basket of bread in front of Victor and says, “Bread.”

Victor looks down at it, then back up at Yuuri, then back down at the bread. “It sure is,” he says.

“I made it.”

“Oh,” Victor says, and then longer, “ _Ooooooh_.”

“I am _so sorry_ ,” Yuuko says.

“Are you his girlfriend?” Victor asks.

“She’s my best friend!” Yuuri says. He still seems to not have any control on his volume. “And that is why I’m going to _fight you_.”

“Yuuri!” Yuuko hisses, and Yuuri knows that if they weren’t near company she’d be twisting his ear, but they are so she is powerless.

“It’s fine,” Victor says with a shrug. “I didn’t have anything to do anyway. Being dragged around and dined by a cute boy is hardly the worst way to spend an afternoon.”

“Do you think you can trick me with sweet talk? Just because you’re beautiful and your accent is adorable? You can’t,” Yuuri tells him, sitting down in a huff.

Victor stares at him, then turns to Yuuko and whispers, “He’s single, right?”

Yuuko just stares at him, then shakes her head and mutters, “ _Unbelievable_.” She sighs and rubs her temple for a second, eyes closed. When she opens them again her expression is one of utter resignation. “Yes, he is. Just- just sit there. I’ll bring some food out. And if you have your dog inside you have to leash it.”

“Can we get-“ Yuuri starts and is promptly cut off.

“You can get whatever I put in front of you, Katsuki,” Yuuko says, threateningly.

Yuuri slumps and pouts.

“So,” Victor starts, resting his elbow on the table and his head in his hand, tilting it a little bit in a way that is absolutely devastating and makes Yuuri’s higher brain functions stop for a solid minute. “Yuuri was it?”

“You can’t seduce me! I have the power of friendship on my side!”

“Is that right?” he asks, and runs his eyes over Yuuri slowly.

Yuuri grabs the menu still sitting at the center of the table and tries his best to hide behind it until the food arrives. Luckily Yuuko prepares their food in record time and places it in front of them, along with the bottle of the good wine for Victor and a bottle of water for Yuuri.

Yuuri would protest, but one look from Yuuko has him shutting his mouth again with a click and chugging down water.

Then he glances at Victor and watches him going about eating the dish Yuuko put in front of him completely wrong.

“That’s not how you eat that,” he says frowning, and because his sense of shame is still checked the fuck out, he leans forward, grabs Victor’s cluttery from his hands and arranges his food in his fork for him, then holds it up to his mouth, looking at him expectantly.

“I don’t think out of the two of us, you’re the one being seduced,” Victor says.

“Say ‘ah’,” Yuuri demands, brows furrowed, until Victor leans forward and opens his mouth for Yuuri to feed him.

He watches beyond pleased, as Victor’s eyes widen in appreciation and he looks back down at his food with a surprised face.

“This is really good,” he says, and opens his mouth again for more.

By the second dish, Yuuri has pulled his chair from across Victor to beside him because obviously Victor doesn’t know how to eat properly, which is strange since he’s an acclaimed chef, but Yuuri loves seeing him enjoy Yuuko’s food, feeling a weird swell of pride as if he had been the one who made it.

Yuuko deserves recognition and not a lukewarm review because Victor had walked into Yuuko’s restaurant on a day when every single thing that could’ve gone wrong went.

By the third dish, Yuuri has drunk enough water and ate enough that he’s slowly starting to sober up. His actions are starting to catch up to him and _oh my god_ he can’t believe he shouted at Victor Nikiforov in the middle of the street and dragged him here. He can’t believe he’s been feeding someone that owns more restaurants with Michelin stars than there are Michelin stars. He’s going to _die_.

And just as he’s about to panic and make some excuse so he can ran for it and hide under the floorboards of Minako’s studio or something, Yuuko comes around to take their plates away and put dessert in front of him.

She takes a look at Yuuri and for a split second Yuuri thinks he’s saved, before she puts a hand on his shoulder and says in Japanese so Victor won’t understand, “If you run and don’t deal with this I swear I’ll never forgive you.” She sounds so serious that Yuuri doesn’t dare move one single muscle to get out of his chair.

He just sits there next to undoubtedly the most beautiful man on the face of this planet, petting his dog to try to calm down.

“This was really fun,” Victor says as Yuuri helps him into his jacket because- well, it sounds like the right thing to do in this situation. And Yuuri should do at least this after inconveniencing Victor so much. “We should do it again.”

Absolutely not. They should never see each other again. In fact, Yuuri should just start digging himself a hole right here where he can live the rest of his days, among the dirt where he belongs.

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, sounding dazed, and almost immediately wants to kick himself.

Victor takes a pen out of the inner pocket of his jacket and leans down so he can scribble something in a napkin.

“You should call me,” he says, putting the napkin in Yuuri’s hand and curling Yuuri’s fingers over it. “I’d love revisiting other restaurants with you.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, stupidly.

He should really shut up.

Victor is still standing in front of him, hovering. He tilts forward a little, hesitates, before he leans all the way to kiss Yuuri’s cheek. It’s quick and light, and when Victor pulls back he squeezes his hand around Yuuri’s, the napkin trapped under his fingers, and says in the softest voice Yuuri has ever heard, “Call me.”

And then he turns and leaves with Makkachin on his heels.

Yuuri isn’t going to call him. This entire thing was Drunk Yuuri’s fault and everyone knows that that guy is a messy bitch who can’t be trusted.

The next review of Yuuko’s restaurant is _glowing_ , and it leaves Yuuri sitting there wondering if he just bribed a revered chef by hand feeding him and drunkenly yelling at him. But still Yuuri isn’t going to call him. He isn’t.

Yuuri hates calling people in general, why would he call the guy he’s had a _very professional_ crush on for forever after making a fool of himself in front of him? He wouldn’t.

“Do you want to try the new restaurant that opened near that big dog park? They allow dogs in too,” Yuuri asks in a rush, pressing his phone to his face a little too hard. He can hear the plastic creak under his grip.

When Victor answers, it’s equally as fast but in a much less terrified tone than Yuuri had use, “I’d love to.”


	16. that one official art of victor looking soft with makka wearing yuuri's glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> y'all remember [that official art of victor and makka where makka is wearing yuuris glasses??](https://v-nikiforovo.tumblr.com/post/156440874692/cleaned-the-new-spoon2di-art-preview-with-victor) i always pictured victor making a bad yuuri impression so huh have this i guess

Victor leans against the doorway of his room, hair just the right kind of messy-wet after his shower and robe slipping down one of his shoulders strategically. He might or might not have pressed his chest against cold tile so his nipples were visible through his frankly not very thick robe.

 “The shower is free,” he says, looking at Yuuri from under his eyelashes.

“Cool, thanks,” Yuuri says, barely sparing a glance at Victor, grabbing his things and bolting out the door.

Victor pouts, watching him all but run down the hall.

“Coward,” he says under his breath. “You wouldn’t run away from me, would you, Makkachin?” he coos, dropping his _very sexy_ stance – and he knows it’s sexy, he practice in front of the mirror and asked Chris for confirmation – and padding over to his bed, where Makkachin is laying like he’s royalty.

Victor lays down and gives Makkachin all the tummy rubs he deserves for being such a good doggo.

“What’s your secret, Makka?” he asks, “How did you get Yuuri to like you so fast, hm?”

Makkachin grumbles happily.

“Ah, you’re right. It’s because you’re the best doggo ever, I’m such a fool.”

He sighs a little, pulling back to grab his phone from the nightstand, when he notices that Yuuri left his glasses behind.

Victor presses his lips together. He probably shouldn’t mess with them, but if he’s very careful it might be okay. Also he knows Yuuri trusts him with his glasses, he’s always leaving them with Victor when they go skating, and more than once if it weren’t for Victor he would’ve lost them somewhere.

More than a testament to that is how often Yuuri forgets them in Victor’s room when they’re hanging out there, talking about Yuuri’s programs or watching a movie or doing whatever else. Victor gueses he can count himself very lucky that he gets that much.

He picks up Yuuri’s glasses and puts them on, the world going a little blurry and starts bending weirdly.

“How do I look?” he asks Makkachin.

Makkachin who had rolled onto his stomach, indignant that his tummy wasn’t being pet anymore, just pants at him, scooting forward and nosing at Victor’s hand for more pets.

“What’s that? You want to try them on?” he asks, and takes them off.

He doesn’t know how badly this would be for Makka’s eyes, and doesn’t want to risk Makka shaking his head and sending the glasses flying so he sets them carefully on top of his head.

“Wow, you look so smart,” he tells him, patting him on the head to keep him still.

The glasses slip a little and Victor pushes them back up, and then because there’s no one around and Victor is a sad pining gay man, he does his best impression of Yuuri’s voice and says while squishing Makka’s cheeks, “You’re so pretty Victor, and I dream of kissing you under the moonlight but I’m a coward that keeps running away.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you because you’re cute,” Victor says magnamiously in his regular voice.

Makkachin licks at his face and Victor turns it away a little with a laugh, and then immediately chokes on it when he sees Yuuri standing in the doorway, looking three seconds away from bolting.

“Ah, Yuuri, hi,” he says, and tries very hard to pretend his voice didn’t come out high-pitched and strangled.

“I, um, forgot my glasses?” he says, wording it like a question.

Victor very carefully takes them off of Makkachin’s head and passes them to Yuuri, who steps carefully into the room to take them, before backing away.

Victor all but sighs in resignation, expecting him to bolt the second he gets to the hallway. But Yuuri surprises him by standing awkwardly on his doorway, one hand clutching the sliding door and looking unsure. Victor tilts his head at him in question.

Yuuri looks at him, opens his mouth, then closes it and looks away. Then, in a rush, he says, “You’re very beautiful, Victor,” before slamming the sliding door close and running down the hall.

Victor stares in shock at the closed door for a solid second, processing.

“Did you hear that, Makkachin,” Victor says, and he’s sure he has the stupidest smile on his face right now. “Yuuri thinks I’m _beautiful_!”


	17. coach him into finishing first: a condom comercial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "I'm begging you to write a fic centered around "coach him into finishing first!""

[video description: a thirty second video featuring professional figure skaters Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov. There’s some sort of rapidly crescendo-ing classical music playing in the background to several slowed down, and up close and personal shots of both of them that heavily imply something really intimate is happening. The close ups include shots of Victor slowly taking off his trademark gloves, of him swiping his thumb over Yuuri’s lips that are parted just the tiniest bit, of his Adam’s apple bobbing, of him parting his mouth in a gasp, as well as several shots of sweat sliding down Yuuri’s throat, of a zipper sliding down his back, of him licking his lips and with his eyes half lidded.

The very last shot is Yuuri throwing his head back with an expression of pure euphoria, at which point the camera pulls back from its close up, and the darkened edges of the shot light up to show an arena filled with people. In the center of the arena Yuuri throws his hands up in victory after a well executed routine. It then cuts to a shot of Yuuri on a podium receiving a gold medal and a bouquet of flowers. He picks up the medal in a familiar motion to bring it to his lips and kiss it, but as he does the hand changes and instead of medal it’s a golden foil condom hanging on a lanyard that Victor Nikiforov kisses, before he holds it between his fingers, gives the camera a wink, and says, “Coach him into finishing first.”

The logo for the condom company and the specific product are the last image that appears along with a breathy female voice advertising enhanced sensations, and then the video ends.]

**MUST WATCH Victor Nikiforov & Katsuki Yuuri Condom Comercial REAL**

forvictuuri                                                                                                                          1,567,456 views  
[subscribe]

«»

[post description: a picture of Victor holding a frame that has the condom medal he wore in his commercial in it for display, followed by a couple pictures of the filming of said commercial that portray both Victor and Yuuri during hair and makeup and pictures of them in front of cameras. There’s also a really short video of Yuuri being spritzed with a bottle of water in the face in a very professional way, he looks sideways at the camera and says a little amused, “I’m not sweaty enough, apparently.”]

Liked by **christophe-gc** , **phichit+chu** , **saracrisp** , **katsukifc** and **738,483 others**

**v-nikiforov** The project Yuuri and I have been working on is out today, I hope everyone enjoyed that! We’ll be talking about it during a livestream where you can asks us any questions you might have about safe sex or anything you’re curious about. We’ll be live on Twitch @ 7pm GMT! Check my Twitter for links and updates!!

_View all 1,234 comments_

**kingkatsuki** some of yall demons are coming after victuuri for being inappropriate and unprofessional meanwhile they’re completely unbothered campaigning for a better sex education and teaching kids about consent

**3sal3lut** finally my gay dads are going to tell me how to FUCK

1 WEEK AGO

«»

**STREAM HIGHLIGHTS [excerpt]**

Victor and Yuuri are sitting at a table that seems to have been set up for this express purpose. There’s a bottle of wine and two glasses set up.

“Hello and welcome everyone,” Victor starts, raising his glass at the camera in greeting. “We’re here to talk about our new commercial, sex, and making good decisions, that’s why with our wine we also have our managers here to make sure nothing scandalous happens.

“So, grab your drink of choice and settle in, if you’re underage, ask your parents if you can watch this, unless they think not teaching you these things will protect you, the only thing it will do is possibly give you an STD,” he pauses, and looks somewhere off-camera. “My manager is telling me to take that back.” He sips a bit of wine. “I will not. Cheers,” he clinks glasses with Yuuri. “And for the people who keep asking, yes, Yuuri and I will be teaching you to use a condom.”

“And how dental dams work,” Yuuri adds, looking more relaxed than usual and a little flushed in the cheeks.

“And that. Let’s start then!”

-

“Was that really the Eros costume or a replica?” Victor reads one of the questions from the chat.

“It was the original. I was surprised it fit me too.”

“Do you have any fun stories from shooting?” Victor reads out. “We did some concept shots to advertise it and someone thought it would be funny to throw condoms around us like confetti.”

“I was wearing my glasses, I got one stuck between my lens and my eye,” Yuuri says.

“One of the interns got a crush on Yuuri,” Victor remembers.

“They did not! They had a crush on _you_.”

“They had a crush on both of us. I think we took a picture with them at the end of the shoot. They were cute.”

“They were very cute, but they were also a baby.”

“Oh, absolutely. What were they? Nineteen? I had _Does Your Mother Know_ from Mamma Mia playing in my head every time they tried to flirt with either of us.”

They’re quiet for a moment, looking at the chat.

“Was it embarrassing saying the tag line? What does Yuuri think of it?” Yuuri reads out.

“It wasn’t embarrassing, I thought it was funny,” Victor says.

“I’m fine with it, Victor’s an expert in finishing first after all,” Yuuri says, and there’s a second of silence where he keeps looking at the chat for more questions, before what he said catches up to him and he goes very red in the face and covers it with his hands.

Victor bursts out laughing.

“I meant in skating!” Yuuri says a little desperately, but the damage is done and the chat starts going unbelievably fast and there’s little either of them can do about it.

-

 “And that’s how you properly put on and take off a condom,” Victor says. At his side Yuuri has been opening up condoms and blowing them into balloons to prove a point. “Now I will teach you how to put on a condom with your mo-“

“No, you’re not,” Yuuri says releasing the condom he had been turning into a balloon and letting it deflate comically, plucking the phallic object Victor had been using as an example away.

“Spoilsport.”

-

“And now, a message by someone actually attracted to women,” Victor announces.

“Lads, if you don’t care about your girlfriend’s interests, make her feel bad for existing without matching a dumb standard of beauty, and don’t put emotional labor into your relationship, then you’re a coward and I don’t fucks with you. Treat women better. Be better. That applies to your nonbinary partners too,” Yuuri points his glass threateningly at the camera.

“Cheers, I’ll drink to that.”

-

“Listen, I don’t care how good your stamina is, or how many inches you’re working with,” Victor says, significantly more drunk than he started this with. The managers have tried stopping the recording for several times, but some of the tech team seem to be terrible enablers. “Tell me how well you listen to your partner, and I’ll tell you how good you are in bed.”

“Communication!” Yuuri says, definitely too loudly, and raises his glass up. There’s a second bottle of wine on the table. “Don’t just open your legs, open your ears!”

“Yes! Yuuri you’re so smart!”

Yuuri looks very smug.

-

“It was lovely to spend this bit with you all,” Victor says, one arm wrapped around Yuuri who is leaning against his shoulder and close to falling asleep. “But it’s very late for us, and we need to go now, we’ve kept everyone that’s been helping us for too long and also we’re out of wine. We hope you could learn something, or that you at least had a good time with us tonight.”

“Do I get my treat now?” Yuuri asks, sounding a little sleepy.

“Yes, darling, you can get it now.”

“Fuck yes,” Yuuri whispers, very quietly but very heartfeltly, pushing himself up and going off screen.

“Yuuri had to be bribed into this, he gets nervous. Thank you to everyone who was kind and encouraging in the chat and everyone who asked nice questions. We love you very much.”

Yuuri comes back on screen with a delicious looking cake and looking extremely pleased.

“Until next time, bye bye.”


	18. Katsuki Yuuri loving his future husband very hard during nationals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt:** "i hate when yuuri is characterized as a blushing schoolgirl around victor, i mean sure, he was shy at first, but i refuse to believe that yuuri doesn’t show affection as much as victor does(especially once he got comfortable with him). so maybe for a prompt we can have yuuri unabashedly loving victor, calling him cute pet names AND BEING V GAY AND LOUD ABOUT HIS BEAUTIFUL HUSBAND"

i.

Japanese and Russian Nationals go on at the exact same time because God personally wants Yuuri to die. There’s absolutely no other explanation for why the two competitions would be scheduled on top of each other, forcing Victor and Yuuri to part not that long after the Grand Prix Final.

But it is what it is.

“Minako will be with you,” Victor is saying, holding one of his Yuuri’s hands and squeezing. “And I’ll be just one call away. I’ll call as often as I can.”

Yuuri hates that they’re going to be apart, and he hates that Victor is trying to look calm when he’s clutching Yuuri’s hand like a lifeline, and he hates that Victor has had a frantic sort of energy surrounding him ever since they realized they couldn’t be there for each other’s Nationals.

And above all, he hates every single reporter that is taking pictures of them shamelessly and not giving them the privacy they need to say goodbye properly. He hates how Victor is holding back because of them. Yuuri wants to kiss him goodbye, but he wants it to be just for Victor and him, and not for every single person who thinks they should be privy to their lives.

“Do you think a Nationals gold will be good enough for you to kiss?” he asks.

“Yuuri-“ Victor starts, brow furrowing in worry.

“A gold for a wedding, was it?” Yuuri asks, tilting his head to let Victor know he’s not being serious. “Maybe I need to beat you, though. We’ll be too busy until Worlds to plan a wedding anyway.”

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Victor repeats, differently this time, a little more raw, emotion choking him up. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

“Me too,” Yuuri says back almost in a whisper, like it’s a secret.

He chews on the inside of his cheek and actually considers how much it’ll kill him if he doesn’t kiss Victor before he goes.

Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed Victor during the Cup of China, because now there’s no way he can stop. Now that he knows the warmth of Victor’s lips and how every single one of his lip balms tastes like, and now that he knows how Victor curls his fingers in Yuuri’s shirts when they kiss, and cups the back of his neck like he wants to keep him there for as long as possible, there’s _no way_ he could stop.

He’s pretty sure if he tried, he would be assaulted with severe symptoms of withdrawal.

So he takes off his jacket, and doesn’t say anything to Victor’s confused face until he can hold it up next to their heads so none of the reporters and paparazzi can see what they’re doing. They’ll know what they’re doing, of course they will, but they won’t see, it’ll be theirs and theirs alone to keep.

It takes half a second for Victor to catch up and in that time Yuuri has risen up on the balls of his feet a little and manages to touch his mouth to Victor’s just as Victor catches up.

The first kiss is short, because Victor pulls back to say, “Yuuri, you’re so smart,” before he cups Yuuri’s cheeks in his hands and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him. He kisses him like he already misses him, and this close, Yuuri almost wants to throw years of training and everything he’s worked for this past year out of the window just to stay right here beside Victor for as long as he can.

But eventually his flight starts boarding and Yuuri has to let go.

“See you soon,” he says, and kisses him once more on the lips before he has to force himself to go.

 

ii.

Yuuri has gold around his neck, a room full of press, and a flight to catch in about two hours if he wants to make it to Russia before Victor’s Nationals are over.

He’s trying to answer questions as fast as he can so he can _leave_ , but apparently dating your childhood idol and making a miraculous comeback makes you the center of attention. Or something.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” one of the reporters asks. The room is oddly quiet and Yuuri for the life of him has no idea what the question even was, much less what he answered.

Asking again would be incredibly rude, so he just stares until someone clues him in on what he did wrong to warrant having to repeat.

“Yuuri-kun, did you get married?” Minami screeches by his side, eyes to wide and leaning uncomfortably into Yuuri’s personal space.

“Huh, not… yet?” Yuuri says carefully.

“Oh,” Minami sighs, and it’s weird- like disappointment but also like relief and Yuuri will _never_ understand this kid. “You called Nikiforov-san your husband.”

“Oh, did I?”

Minami nods vehemently. Yuuri looks over at the room full of reporters for confirmation, and a couple of them nod too, almost as enthusiastically as Minami.

“I’m sorry, that was a slip.”

“So are those friendship ri-“

“What I meant was: my _fiancé_ ,” Yuuri cuts off, which is very rude, and he was absolutely raised better, but he did not have three mental breakdowns in as many days, cried on the phone twice with Victor in a panic, and came out the other end with gold hanging on his neck for anyone to call Victor’s and his commitment rings, _friendship_ rings.

The room clamors up once more and Yuuri winces, looks down at the table for a moment of reprieve, and his eyes catch on his phone that’s blowing up with texts, all of them from Victor, strings of sparkly hearts after strings of sparkly hearts, spaced out only by exclamation points and “I love yous” in every single language Victor knows.

Yuuri frowns, and looks up at the press.

“Is this being broadcasted live?” he asks, there’s a couple of nods and explanations that are spoken too on top of each other for Yuuri to really make any sense of them, before he speaks up again, and thank every deity he knows that he’s one of the only people in the room with a microphone. “Which camera?” he asks.

A couple of people point him to a camera midway into the room.

Yuuri looks directly into it, and says, “Victor, you should be sleeping. Go to bed.”

His phone vibrates on top of the table again and Yuuri looks down at it, unlocks it to read the full messages.

»» _I can’t sleep without you here :((_

_»»don’t be cruel Yuuuuri_

_»»I don’t even have you to tell me goodnight how am I supposed to sleep :(((_

“Would you mind if I took a call?” Yuuri asks the room at large. “It’s very important.”

It’s not like they haven’t exhausted every single skating related questions they could ask through the three of them. At this point, the reporters are just poking at them to see if anything falls out of their mouth unintentionally, and Yuuri is a champion at saying things without thinking, so the faster he goes, the better, really.

There’s some sort of murmuring as the press staff looks at each other, but Minami cuts through them by shouting “Not at all!” into his microphone, making everyone in the room wince.

Yuuri picks up his phone and calls Victor.

“You should be focusing on your interview,” Victor says, by way of answering.

“And you should go to bed, it’s very late for you and you skate tomorrow.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“ _Victor_.”

“ _Yuuri_.” There’s a beat of silence, before Victor sighs and says, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Yuuri whispers, leaning back from the mic as much as he can, painfully aware of everyone in the room staring at him. “Please go to sleep. For me.”

Victor sighs like Yuuri is incredibly cruel to him. “Okay, if I _must_.”

“You must.”

“Can I get a goodnight, before you go?”

“Goodnight, Vitya. I’ll see you soon,” Yuuri whispers and covers his mouth a little so the press won’t hear how gentle his voice is when he does it.

“See you soon, my Yuuri.”

Yuuri hangs up then, because he knows Victor won’t.

He looks back up at the conference room filled with reporters.

“Any more questions?” he asks, and everyone immediately starts talking over each other. Yuuri sighs inwardly, and prepares for an annoying next half hour.

 

iii.

Yuuri has probably not slept for over twenty-four hours, except for a cat nap on the airplane over. He’s sweaty and his clothes are rumpled and he’s got a crick in his neck from the uncomfortable airplane seat, and he should head to the hotel Victor and the other competitors are staying at.

He should go shower, and take a really long nap, and wait for Victor, maybe.

But instead he’s going straight to the sport’s center where Nationals are being held, dragging only his bare essentials with him, and ready to fistfight anyone that tries keeping him one second longer away from Victor.

Victor’s already competed, and he’s already won, but the medal ceremony is only at the end of the day after the Lady’s division finishes up their Free. He has no idea where Victor is in the complex, because he’s an idiot and he wanted to surprise him.

But Yuuri’s got his shitty Russian vocabulary and too many days away from Victor on his side, he’s basically an unstoppable force right now.

An unstoppable force that keeps running into an immovable object known as the press. There’s a pack of them standing in front of Victor, taking pictures and asking questions that Victor answers politely, blocking Yuuri’s direct path to Victor.

Yuuri huffs, annoyed, and decides to go around them. One of the security guards sees him trying to approach Victor from the back, and takes a step forward, Yuuri has his ID with him but his medal is in one of his pockets, so he takes that out and shows it to the security guard, which is maybe a dumb thing to do, but it works, and he lets him through.

“Any more questions?” Victor asks, polite as ever.

“Yeah, I have a question,” Yuuri says, standing behind him.

Victor whirls around, and Yuuri watches him go from apprehensive to surprised to beaming.

“Did you miss me?” he manages to ask, just as Victor steps forward with a delighted sounding, “Yuuri!”

And Yuuri is very tired, his muscles are sore, but he still manages to loop his arms around Victor and pick him up to twirl him just because he knows it makes Victor laugh, and because he just needs to hold him and feel the weight of him in his arms to know he’s real.

“I missed you so much, how could you even ask me that?” Victor asks, when Yuuri sets him down. And Yuuri knows that, he knows that their time apart was rough for both of them, but in very different ways.

For Yuuri it was crushing self-doubt and a restlessness kind of panic under his skin. For Victor it was calling Yuuri to say goodnight and staying on the line past when Yuuri had fallen asleep on him and until the morning, just because he didn’t want to finish the call.

“I missed you too,” Yuuri says and looks at him and looks at him and looks at him because he’s been seeing Victor on a TV his whole life and the time he was in Japan, and he’s gotten greedy. Now that he gets to stand this close and see all the minor little wrinkles and freckles on Victor’s face, he can’t bear the smoothness of it on a screen.

Victor combs his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, trying to tame it down into something more presentable, and looks at Yuuri exactly like Yuuri looks at him, and they just stand there, enjoying the closeness of each other until a flash of a camera catches Yuuri’s eye and he becomes painfully aware of their audience.

He presses his lips together and glances back at the reporters, and that seems to remind Victor as well, who looks over his shoulder and says, “Thank you for your attention, no more questions for today,” before he drags Yuuri away somewhere more private.

“Can I see it?” Victor asks when they’re tucked away in a back hallway with a couple of chairs stacked in the corner and an emergency exit.

Yuuri pulls his medal out of his pocket and offers it to Victor, palm up.

Victor takes it from him, but instead of examining it, he carefully places it around Yuuri’s neck, before grabbing the medal and bringing it to his lips to kiss it.

“I’m so proud of you,” he says, quiet and a kind of heartfelt that washes over Yuuri and makes every hardship he’s ever had to go through to get to this precise moment in his life worth it.

“I am too, you know?”

“Proud of yourself?”

“Proud of _you_ ,” Yuuri says, grabbing Victor by the lapels of his coat and pulling him closer. “You were beautiful, I wish I could’ve been here.”

“You will be, next time,” Victor says, and drops Yuuri’s medal in favour of his hand, looping his fingers around Yuuri’s wrist and bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss his palm.

“I will,” Yuuri says, and twists his hand in Victor’s hold, so he can grab Victor’s hand just like Victor had done for him, and mimic the gesture, bringing his palm to his lips and planting a kiss there.

Victor’s hands smell like the lotion he prefers, and his skin feel familiar under Yuuri’s lips. It makes something in Yuuri’s chest sigh and settle, after having fluttered in a panic for the past however many days. Victor curls his fingers and Yuuri presses his palm to his cheek, holds it there because he’s not quite ready to let go.

When he looks up at Victor he looks like he’s aching, so Yuuri pulls him a forward with a hand at the nape of his neck and makes their foreheads touch. He holds him there and allows them both to just have a moment to breathe in each other’s closeness.

“Let’s not do that again, okay?” Yuuri asks.

And when Victor answers is on a sigh of relief. “Okay.”


	19. *that one vine dude voice* IS THIS ALLOWED???!!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Prompt to go with that prompt! Victor and Yuuri forgetting they’re in public and being really really affectionate. Sometimes,, even,, overaffectionate ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)"

[video description: a series of clips lifted from Phichit Chulanont’s Instagram account and made into a Youtube compilation by a fan. There’s an intro that seems to be made in Movie Maker with an inordinate amount of winky faces.

 

Clip #1

Victor and Yuuri walking in front of the camera, holding hands and seeming completely oblivious to the fact that they’re being filmed. The camera slowly and dramatically zooms in on their linked hands, and Phichit Chulanon’ts voice can be heard, sounding cheerful, “Oh my god! Is this allowed? Is this allowed?” he asks with a laugh in his voice.

He zooms out the camera just in time to catch Yuuri looking over his shoulder and raising his eyebrows at him. Phichit keeps laughing, and alternates between focusing on Yuuri’s face and on their linked hands.

“Ohmmygod, is this allowed?”

Yuuri pointedly shoves their linked hands inside his coat pocket and slides a little closer to Victor, blocking Phichit’s view.

Phichit decides to focus on Yuuri’s face while saying, “Boo, spoilsport,” and manages to catch on camera Yuuri sticking his tongue out at him before he faces forward again, before the video cuts off.

 

Clip #2

The setting seems to be a busy restaurant this time, the contestants of the 2016 Grand Prix are all sitting around a table sharing a meal.

The camera does a sweep of the table, focusing for a couple of seconds on each of them as they’re engaged in conversation with each other, or looking down at their phones, and then finally landing on Victor and Yuuri sitting really close together on one of the sides of the table.

Yuuri’s got an elbow on the table and his head resting on it so he can look up at Victor with a look worthy of illustrating the definition of smitten in the dictionary, and Victor is completely turned towards him, even if he’s trying to finish his food. Every once in a while, he brings his fork up to Yuuri’s mouth to feed him.

The next time he does it, Phichit yells, “Is this allowed?!” making Victor flinch and miss Yuuri’s mouth, dropping the food on his lap, and then quickly rush to wipe it off.

Phichit starts laughing.

Yuuri balls up his napkin and throws it at Phichit’s face, who was so distracted laughing that he gets startled enough to fall out of his chair.

 

Clip #3

Yuuri and Victor standing at a banquet hall oblivious to anything else but each other.

The camera focuses on where Yuuri is wrapping Victor’s tie around his hand, looking up at Victor over the rim of his glasses, while Victor looks the closest to helplessly smitten he’s ever looked on camera.

Then the camera shifts towards a table where coaches seem to be sitting at and then moves back and forward as Phichit asks, “Is this allowed?? Excuse me! Is this allowed?” until Celestino tells him to stop.

 

Clip #4

Victor and Yuuri sitting together on a bench close to a fountain with a mountain of shopping bags around them. Yuuri looks exhausted and is leaning his head on Victor, who has put a hand around his shoulders and is holding him close.

Phichit zooms in on them dramatically, “Is this-“

“If you say that _one more time_ , I’m going to throw your phone into that fountain,” Yuri Plisetsky threatens, putting himself in front of the camera, which, due to how much it’s zoomed, only shows one green eye and part of his eyebrow.

 

Clip #5

You get a clear shot of Victor sitting on the floor at what seems to be like someone’s hotel room, once more the best of Men’s Figure Skating are strewn across the room. Yuuri is sitting in between Victor’s legs and leaning back against his chest.

The camera starts coming closer as Phichit runs towards them in the small space, startling them.

“Is this allowed?” Phichit asks, putting his phone up uncomfortably close to Yuuri’s face.

Yuuri holds up his finger and pushes the phone back.

“Not to worry,” Yuuri says, “we have a permit.” He then reaches into the pocket of his tracksuit jacket and pulls out a folded piece of paper, which he hands Phichit.

Phichit struggles to unfold it with only one hand, before he focuses the camera on the words which neatly read ‘GAY RIGHTS’ and nothing else.

“You know what, that’s fair,” Phichit says.

 

Clip #6

The weepiest, most emotion filled, choked up, “Is- is this allowed?” as the camera focused on Victor and Yuuri, wearing suits as they feed each other wedding cake, their wedding bands catching in some unknown light source and blinding the camera.

 

Clip #7

The shot is of the Olympic ice rink, the sound of the crowd is deafening, and the camera is focused on a blur skating across the rink towards the exit, and by the way Victor is standing close to it, looking ecstatic and with his arms open wide, it isn’t hard to infer that it’s Yuuri.

He almost knocks Victor over when he launches himself at him, but Victor makes use of Yuuri’s momentum and spins him around as their lips touch.

“Is this allowed?!” Phichit screams at the top of his lungs, making every single headphone user watching this video wince, and sounding overwhelmed with joy.

 

Clip #8

A far away shot of Victor and Yuuri both looking really disheveled as they talk with a police officer, it’s a clip shorter than the other ones, and it fades to black as soon as Phichit finishes saying, “I guess that wasn’t allowed huh?”

 

Clip #9

The camera focuses around what appears to be a private pool party with a lot of the high ranking figure skating. He passes by Seung Gil with heavy sunglasses, covered in sunscreen under an umbrella, and Chris in a scandalous thong, and Otabek and Yuri competing to see who can make the biggest canon ball. Off-screen you can hear Michele Crispino screaming and Emil’s cheerful voice.

Phichit walks around the pool to where Victor and Yuuri are hanging out together in a corner. Victor is all wrapped up around Yuuri, both of them taking advantage of how weightless the water makes him so Yuuri can pick him up for as long as he wants, and they are, indubitably, if their expressions are anything to go by, flirting.

“Is this a-ahh!” Phichit’s voice starts, mischievously, and then turns into a screech when Yuuri unexpectedly grabs him by the arm and pulls him into the water.

He comes back up coughing and spitting water, with an indignant, “Yuuri!”

“Your phone is water proof, you’re fine,” Yuuri says, sounding amused.

“What if it weren’t?!”

“I’d buy you a new one,” Victor says.

 

Clip #10

Phichit beaming proudly with a gold medal, showing it off. Victor and Yuuri come up at each side of him and both kiss him on the cheeks at the same time, eliciting a delighted gasp from Phichit, and a playful, “This is definitely allowed!”

The video ends with a ‘Thanks for watching ;)’]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kept reading overaffectionate as overcaffeinated and if thats not the energy of this fic idk what is


	20. pick your starter ft victuuri baby machan!

Yuuri meticulously sets all the Pokémon plushies he got in the mail two weeks ago in a neat line. There’s… a lot of them. Yuuri might or might not have gotten carried away with this, but, well, it’s for a good cause.

The good cause being an Instagram post, so really that he spent so much on official Pokémon plushies is Victor’s fault, since Victor is the one who insists he needs to be better about his online presence.

“All done,” Yuuri says. “Bring her over.”

Victor wanders into the living room and eyes the toys laying on the soft carpeted floor.

“Wow,” he says softly, an amused tilt to his lips.

Yuuri grabs his phone, ready to record, as Victor sets their adorable baby daughter down on the floor in front of all the plushies.

Yuuri dressed her in a little snorlax kigurumi, and she’s so cute he feels like he’s about to have a heart attack.

Machan can’t walk yet. She can stand on her little wobbly legs for a couple of seconds before she sits down again, still unable to support her full weight, but she can crawl around like a little speed demon.

As soon as Victor sits her down on the floor in front of the plushies, Yuuri presses record.

Machan tries to look back up at Victor but the hoodie of her kigurumi falls over her eyes, so she turns her head back down, looking at all the new toys around her.

“This is a very important step for you, Machan,” Yuuri intones seriously, catching her attention. “You’re choosing your starter for the first time.”

Machan looks back down at the plushies, reaching clumsily for one with her chubby little baby hands.

Machan definitely has predominant Katsuki genes in her, going by how round and chubby she is. Yuuri could spend the whole afternoon squishing her little cheeks if she didn’t hate it so much.

He holds his breath, seeing which one she’s going for.

She grabs charmander by the tail, and stares at it for a bit, before she shucks it aside.

“Oh, you don’t like charmander?” Yuuri asks, catching her attention again.

Machan shifts to her hands and knees and starts crawling over the plushies, messing up the neat line in which Yuuri had set them, but Yuuri can’t be bothered much, because she crawls straight into his lap, clumsily grabbing fistfuls of his shirt so she can stand up on shaky legs.

She slaps her tiny hand on his cheek and says, “Da! Dada, dada.”

Yuuri drops his phone, recording by damn and hugs her to his chest, because his baby daughter is so sweet and precious and he loves her so much.

Machan hates being squeezed and immediately starts squirming unhappily, so Yuuri lets her go and kisses her palm. She scrunches up her whole face and it’s the cutest thing Yuuri has seen in his life, but then again everything Machan does is the cutest thing Yuuri’s seen in his life.

She reaches up again, grabs his glasses off his face and shucks them.

Yuuri sighs, staring down at them as Victor feverishly takes pictures.

“Dada,” Machan babbles again, and Yuuri immediately forgives her, leaning down to smack a noise kiss against her cheek.

“I love my life,” Victor whispers, laying down on the floor for a better angle.

**Author's Note:**

> [here's my home of residence where i am gay in real time](http://crossroadswrite.tumblr.com)


End file.
